Harry Potter and the Tides of War
by soulthief2
Summary: Doing a full rewrite, please have patience. Will be Au, startin from a different time, though still HarryHarem. First chapter, I think, is a little wierd, but please tell me what you guys think.
1. Chapter 1 rewrite

Harry Potter ad the Tides of War (Rewrite)

_**I'm sorry to all of my loyal fans out there who were waiting for a proper update, but, after sitting back and seriously considering my fic, I realised just how awkward it was. the character development was piss-poor, there were major plot holes, and as one reviewer put it, I was having characters coming to conclusions without ever explaining how they reached them. So, it is with renewed vigor to get things right that I am rewriting this. However, I will warn you now, this will take place during a different time then my previous fic. Cheers, and may the Crumle-Horned Snorkack watch over you.**_

Harry and Cedric stared at each other before Cedric said, "You take it, it should be yours." Harry shook his head, "No, you're the rightful Hogwarts champion, someone else put my name in the cup. you should be the one to get the glory, not me. Besides, I have enough fame."

Cedric chewed his lip thoughtfully before finally, "Look, how about we both take it? That way, it's still a Hogwarts victory." "Are you sure?" "Never been more so in my life."

And with that, they each grabbed a handle of the trophy, and immediately felt the tug behind their navel that was associated with a portkey.

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he saw the champions disappear from the trophy area. There was only one person who had touched the cup since the tournament had begun. However, he was unable to do anything about it right now. First he had to make sure the two other champions were alright, relying on Harry's instncts to carry him through whatever ordeal he was about to face.

The two boys crashed to the ground in a loud thud, and the cup went rolling. They lay there for a few seconds before, groaning, they rose to their feet. Shaking his head to clear the dizziness, Harry looked around to get his bearings. They appeared to be in a graveyard of some sort, with a large, ominous tomb behind them. On a large hill away from the graveyard was a mansion, one that looked strangely familiar. With a start, Harry realised where they were.

"Cedric, wands out, be prepared to defend yourself!" Movement from the shadows caught Harry's attention, and he pushed Cedric out of the way as a sickly green beam of light raced towards them, barely missing Harry. A feeling of nausea and death fille dHarry as the beam passed by, before it hit the tomb, shattering a good portion of it to dust.

Harry snarled as the one who cast the spell came into the light. it was Wormtail, but he was different than before. His beady little eyes glittered with a madness that showed he had lost what little humanity he had to begin with.

"Avada Kedavra!" He cried, once again aiming at Cedric. The Hufflepuff was prepared this time, however, and quickly conjured a chair that absorbed the bolt and exploded in a storm of splinters.

Wormtail growled at the failure, before deciding to ignore the 'spare', and concentrate fully on Harry. With an Inhuman howl, he drew a silver dagger with the hand not holding the wand and charged Harry. Cursing, Harry ducked under the first slice, but was caught across the chest with a downward swing.

Time seemed to stop for Harry, as he watched with detached fascination as his blood flew through the air. his wound didn't hurt, not really, but then again, it was most likely shock that was dulling the pain.

Then he hit the ground, and his chest screamed in pain. Crying out, Harry writhed on the ground, as the cut began to sizzle. Cedric, who had been frozen in place until now, was jerked into action by Harry's scream. He ran towards the boy's body, and began to do his best to try and heal his wound, or at least stop whatever was eating at his wound.

Wormtail, on the other hand was quietly reciting a ritual that had been devised by his master. Quickly, he removed a bone from the tomb, and dumped it into a large cauldron filled with Unicorn blood. Then he took the dagger he had used to cut Harry, reversed sides, and cut his right hand off. the limb fell into caldron, which began to bubble and froth violently. then, lastly, he dripped the few drops of Harry's blood on the dagger into the Cauldron. instantly, the vessel burst into flames. Wormtail, laughing hysterically, picked up a small, swathed object, and dumped it into the cauldron.

A loud, hissing laugh filled the air, as emerald lightning split the sky and thunder rolled. the cauldron began to melt, as it did, revealing a shadowy, man-sized figure. Voldemort had risen again.

Voldemort looked around himself, smirking when he saw the still figure of Wormtail, stump still bleeding. Grabbing his wand from his lackey, he quickly activated the Dark Mark. Giving the wand another wave, Wormtail's stump was replaced by a gleaming liquid-silver hand.

Then he turned his attention to Harry, just as the first of his Inner circle was arriving. he noted the presence of Cedric with a slight lip curl, before hap-hazardly sending a killing curse his way. Cedric rolled out of the way, his Quidditch reflexes kicking in. Voldemort's killing curse was significantly more powerful than Wormtail's, seeing as how it blew the left half of the tomb away.

Satisfied that the 'spare' was out of the way, Voldemort made his way to the still writhing form of Harry. Chuckling darkly, Voldemort raised his hand, and Harry was lifted into the air. "Take a good look, my death eaters, at the savior of the wizarding world. See how he squirms like a worm on a hook." There was a brief pause, before Voldemort violently backhanded Harry across the face.

"Such insolence! to think that someone like you could even think to have beaten me! That was nothing but a temporary ceasefire, facilitated by the loss of my body. I am unbeatable, Harry! Even Dumbledore fears me! The strongest witches and wizards wouldn't dare face me!"

Through his pain, and the throbbing ache in his jaw, Harry managed to mumble something. "What was that, Potter?" The Boy-who-lived weakly lifted his head and looked the snake-man in the eye, "I said, the reason why nobody wants to face you is because of your poor hygiene. Your breath smells like rotten eggs."

Voldemort roared in anger. "Crucio!" Harry, still suspended, jolted horrifically as he was subjected to the torture curse. After a brief second, Voldemort lifted the curse. "Where is your cheek now Potter, having had a sample of the power that you now face?"

Weakly, Harry began chuckling, "Tom, if that was power, you might as well throw garden gnomes at me, it would have more effect." Voldemort's eyes became thin slits, and the red orbs glowed with anger. "HOW DARE YOU?! CRUCIO!" Again, the curse hit Harry, and the boy tried his hardest not to cry out. He wouldn't give Voldemort the satisfaction of hearing him scream. Blood flowed freely from his mouth as he bit his tongue, if only to focus on a different pain.

After what seemed like forever, Voldemort released the both the torture curse, and the spell holding Harry up. the boy fell in a heap, coughing blood from onto the ground. "Get up, Potter. I assume you have been taught how to duel? Take out your wand, you shall have the rare pleasure of dueling against me before you die."

Harry barely managed to make it to his knees, before he felt a pair of arms lift him up to his feet. Cedric threw him a grim look, and slung Harry's arm, the one not holding his wand, around his shoulder to keep him up.

"Ah, friendship and helping. How touching. it won't save you, however. AVADA KED-"

"Accio Trophy!" Harry's spell was completed just before the bolt hit them, and they both warped away.

Dumbledore felt the magic in the area start to warp, and was headed towards the entrance of the maze just as Harry and Cedric landed. Cedric looked fine, save for an extremely pale face and a few cuts and bruises. Harry on the other hand...

Harry had no energy left. The combination of his wounds, mixed with the physical and mental torture of the Cruciatus curse had taken its toll. the only thing he could do was moan weakly as whatever was on the knife blade continued to eat at his wound.

As he lay there, with Cedric attempting to stop the bleeding and dumledore racing towards them, he heard someone scream, before a whole cacophany of sounds filled the air. After that, everything was black.

Dumbledore reached Cedric just as harry passed out. "what happened?" He demanded, as he began to wave his wand over the wound. Cedric ripped his slleve off and held it over the part of the wound Dumbledore wasn't working on before he said, "the cup was a portkey. It took us to some wierd graveyard. When we landed, Harry saved me from getting killed by this rat-looking guy, but was then attacked with a knife, which did this. after that, the ratty man did a ritual and raised..."

Dumdbledore felt fear and apprehension grip him as he stared at Cedric, it couldn't be...

"He raised...voldemort. He's back! Voldemort's back!" Cedric began to sob, as the sleeve he had over Harry's wound began to soak through with blood. Cursing, Dumbledore returned to caring for the wound. Whatever the poison was, it was extremely acidic, and was widening the wound. As he was trying to contain the poison, he began scanning Harry for any other wounds.

much to his dismay, there was a slight twitch in Harry's extreities, a sure sign of the Cruciatus having been used on him. There was also a massive bruise forming on his cheek.

After he had finished his examination, the rest of the faculty arrived. Madame Pompfrey quickly hurried to examine Harry. "Headmaster, whatever this poison is, it's eating off of the moisture in his system. he's also been hit by the Cruciatus at least twice, once minor, but the second was massive."

"He held it on him for at least a minute." The faculty tured collectively to Cedric, who had decided to get out of the way. "Who did?" The faculty all had curious looks on their faces save for Snape, whose eyes were wide with horror. He knew who had risen tonight.

"Voldemort. He hit Harry with it once, but then afterwards Harry told him that he would have done more damage if he'd thrown garden Gnomes at him. So then Voldemort got pissed and hit him again, this time for much longer, and Harry just hung there, blood dripping from his mouth..." Cedric trailed off, his eyes staring ahead vacantly.

Dumbledore just stared at Harry's inert form before shaking his head, "A true Gryffindor. Who else would compare Voldemort to a garden gnome?"

Snape eyed the wound critically. There was only one poison that would do such a thing to a wound. "Headmaster, that poison is Basilisk venom." Various gasps were heard round the boy, but Dumbledore seemed to sag with relief, "That makes it easier then." Raising his head, his eyes unfocused for an instant, until a large, red bird apeared in a flash of flames. "Fawkes, I fear Harry has become injured and will need your help again." The bird chirped, and flew down to the ground before bringing his head over Harry's wound and dripping a few tears over it. Immediately, the poison stopped spreading, and Madame Pompfrey was able to finish healing Harry.

McGonagall's face was pale as she asked, "Dumbledore, how did Harry manage to last so long with such a wound? Basilisk venom usually kills within a minute." Major crisis concerning Harry over with, dumbledore watched as the prefects led the children to their dorms, though he noted with some happiness that Ms. Granger amd the entire weasley family was making a rather valiant attempt to get to him.

"If it was anything, Minerva, it was most likely that Harry has developed a resistance to Basilisk venom, perhaps even more so now than before. When he was 12, he was the one who entered the Chamber of Secrets, along with Mr. Weasley and then-professor Lockhart to save Ms. Weasley. In it, he found a basilisk left by Salazar, as a tool for his heir to wield to destroy all muggle-borns in the school. He was successful in slaying it, but was bitten in the process. Thankfully, Fawkes was there, and managed to save Harry before he died. Thus, thanks to a combination of his own immune system, and Fawkes' amazing powers, Harry now has a resistance to basilisk venom. Make no mistake, however. The venom is still lethal to him, this just means that it will take more time for Mr. Potter to expire."

Standing, Dumbledore began making his way towards the castle. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have some very grave news to report. Madame Pompfrey, if you would please inform Mr. Potter's friends and myself when he regains consciousness?"

Without looking back to see if she nodded or not, Dumbledore went on his way. As he walked, he began to think of what the future would bring. For good or bad, with Voldemort now back in power, one thing was sure; the wizarding world would never be the same.


	2. Chapter 2

Harry Potter and the Tides of War

Chapter 2 (rewrite)

**To the one reviewer for the new chapter 1, yes, this will be an entire rewrite. Like I said, I wasn't satisfied with the product I had before, and so I am attempting to fix it, even if it means having to start all over again.**

When Harry regained consciousness, he was shocked to see that the infirmary was packed full of people, most of them grim-faced and rather morbid. Mind still foggy from before, he sat up, only to fall back onto the bed with a hiss of pain.

"Mr. Potter, I must insist that you do not attempt to move for some time. The injuries you sustained were quite extensive indeed." The mention of his injuries brought back the memories of what had happened in the graveyard, and he groaned.

"How long have I been out?" He tried to move his arms, and was able to, even if they were a bit sore. "About two days, mate." Answered Ron, "Cedric managed to bring you back. Kept saying that you-know-who is back."

"He is." Ignoring the various gasps around him, Harry continued, "He used some of my blood in a ritual to resurrect himself. He then proceeded to kick the crap out of me, though I do have to admit, his first Crucio was rather weak."

An older voice spoke up this time, "Ah yes, I do believe that was when you told him that throwing Garden Gnomes at you would probably do more damage?" Harry recognized the voice as Dumbledore's.

"Yes sir. But I warn you, that was only half teasing. Cheeky little blighters hurt a lot."

Sobbing could be heard from somewhere to Harry's left. "How can you be so candid about this? The Dark Lord is back, you've been horribly injured, and you're sitting there making jokes! You almost died!"

"Mrs. Weasley, I've almost died every year I've gone to this school, for me this is just par for the course." Sensing the confused looks, he elaborated, "Muggle term."

"Harry," Dumbledore spoke up again, "did Voldemort have any of his death eaters with him when he was resurrected?" "Yes, he had Wormtail, but he was the only one I could recognize, all the others were wearing masks and hoods."

Deciding he had had enough of lying down, Harry carefully elevated himself with his elbows and scooted back in his bed so his back was up against the headboard. Opening his eyes, he was surprised to see that the entire Weasley family was there, along with Hermione, Remus, Dumbledore, and a large, shaggy, black dog.

Seeing Harry recognize him, the dog's face lit up and he leaped onto the bed and began to lick the boy's face. "Ack! Snuffles! Down boy!"

The great dog gave one ear-shattering woof, before leaping off. The force from the jump, though, caused Harry's torso to twitch in pain. Wincing, he gingerly rubbed the area, hissing when the burning sensation increased at his touch. Curious, he looked to Madam Pompfrey.

"The poison on the knife that cut you was basilisk venom. Basilisk venom, when introduced to any water-based liquid, gains acidic properties. Fortunately for you, due to your prior experiences with a basilisk, you were able to withstand the effects of the venom long enough for us to treat you."

The healer paused, "We were unable, however, to stop any scarring from ocurring."

Feeling dread build up in him, Harry quickly unbuttoned his pajama tops, only to reveal the huge scar he'd recieved.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Sometime later found Harry in the Infirmary with Dumbledore, dicussing what the future would hold.

"Sir, why is Voldemort so obsessed with me? It can't simply be because I was the reason he lost his powers, that would be a reason to hate me, sure, but to be so... manic, there must be something going on."

Dumbledore hesitated from his seat on the end of Harry's bed. "I...know the answer to your question, but I do not yet know if you're prepared to handle it." Harry threw the Headmaster a reproachful look. "With all due respect sir, I've defeated a mountain troll, enchanted chess pieces, a posessed teacher, a 70 foot Basilisk, a werewolf, a dragon, merfolk, grindylows, and have now by some miracle survived an encounter with the man who wants me dead. All I ask is why. Why does he want me dead so much?"

Albus sighed, almost visibly aging before Harry's eyes. "It is because you are a threat to his quest for immortality." Seeing Harry's confuseed look, he continued, "Many years ago, just before your birth, there was a prophecy created that spoke of a child being born who was able to defeat Voldemort. It was said that voldemort would mark that child as his equal, and that neither would be able to live while the other survives."

Harry narrowed his eyes, "So you think that this child is me?" Dumbledore gave him a penetrating stare from over the tops of his halfmoon glasses. "Is it really so hard to believe, Harry? Why do you think Voldemort attacked your home in the first place, anyways? He believed you to be the child in the prohecy, and thus, tried to kill you, fulfilling one part of the prophecy, marking you as his equal."

Stunned, Harry just stared down at the covers of his bed. The entire scope of his reality was shaken, and the realization of what he had to do scared him. "So, I have to become a murderer, or else the entire wizarding world is doomed?"

"I would not put the situation into such frank terms, it is infinitely more complex than that. No, you will not become a murderer, you will become a soldier. You kill to protect, not to to simply kill. Your killing will have a purpose, one that is good and pure."

Harry was still for a moment, before he lifted his head up and looked the headmaster in the eye. "If I'm going to do this, I'll need help."

Compared to the chaos that had been the tournament, the rest of the year was quite tame. Harry had yet to recieve an answer from Dumbledore about the help he would need, but, he already knew he had two allies in Ron and hermione. He had explained the situation to them, with some trepidation as to whether or nor they would decide whether or not they would still want to be his friends. His fears proved to be ungrounded, though, as they quickly decided that he was being foolish and that they would, of course, help him.

On another note, his relationship with the other champions had changed. No longer was he the 'leetle child' or an outside intrudance, but was treated as an equal. Harry and Cedric decided to split the winnings from the tournament, though Harry risked Mrs. Weasley's wrath by donating his to the twins in order for them to begin creation of their joke shop.

Before he knew it, it was the end of term, and the entire school was gathered in the great Hall. The chattering in the hall ceased as Dumbledore stood to make his speech. "As you all are no doubt aware, there were problems involved with the tournament this year. What you do not know is the true nature of the complications." He roved his eyes over the entire student body before continuing, "The Ministry will deny what I am about to tell you, but that is because they fear what the truth will entail. The reason why one of our contestants returned to us with such horrific injuries was not because of something within the maze, but rather that of Lord Voldemort."

Gasps and a few screams sounded through the chamber. "The friendships we made this year will be more important now than ever before. We must all work together in order to make it through the approaching darkness. Life for you will never be the same, but it is up to you whether or not it will be for better or worse."

Harry was packing his things into his trunk when he heard someone enter the dormitories. Turning, he was greeted by the sight of Dumbledore. "I know that I have up to this point given you a response in your request for help, but it took me some time to get things organized." Groaning slightly, he took a seat on the bed across from Harry.

"Unfortunately, you must return to your relative's this summer, but unlike the years before, you will not be alone, nor will you be totally defenseless. I have managed to convince the Minister to allow you to perform magic during the summer holidays, in return that incriminating evidence of some of his activities with mr. Malfoy not come into light."

Harry raised an eyebrow, and Dumbledore chuckled. "Harry, I may have been a Gryffindor, but I am not above using some...questionable means to an end, so long as they do not cause the suffering of others. But I digress." Idly, he stroked his long white beard.

"I have also arranged for several aurors, of my choosing, of course, to live with you at your relative's house. Unfortunately, this would mean that they must take a leave of absence fromt heir normal duties, but I believe it to be beneficial in the long run. I hope you truly are serious about working, Harry, so as not to waste their efforts."

"Does that mean that they won't be getting paid?" Dumbledore nodded. "That's not right! I mean, if they have to pend their summer with me, they should at least be getting paid to have to put up with me, instead of catching death eaters! Is there any way that I can pay them?"

Dumbledore thought for a second. "Yes, there is, actually. When your parents died, they put me in charge of monitoring your finances until you were of age and able to monitor them yourself. This of course includes your family vault, which has more than enough to pay the salaries of a few aurors."

Harry blinked, "I have a family vault?" Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Oh yes, while they were not filthy rich, your family has always been quite well off. Of course, after fourteen years of interest, that particular vault has put you about on par with the Malfoy family. the only family which would exceed either fortune would have to be the Black family, which has existed for centuries."

"Hot damn." Suddenly remebering whose company he was in, Harry's face turned red and he tried to stammer an apology, but was thwarted when Dumbledore simply held his hand up. "Your reaction is understandable. Now, I believe it is time for you to make your way to the station, the train will be leaving soon."

Harry quickly finished packing, and made his way down to Hogsmeade station, where the other students were packing their trunks into the luggage compartments. Stowing his, he boarded and moved through the train, looking for Ron and Hermione. Eventually he did, but was also met with the unwelcome sight of Draco Malfoy.

"Malfoy, what an unpleasant surprise." The other boy sneered. "What's the matter Potter? Can't handle seeing your betters? Maybe that's why you ran from the Dark Lord?" The entire train compartment went quiet, as people began to gather round the two.

"Sure Malfoy, Voldemort's my better. That's why he had to restrain and beat me before deciding I didn't pose a threat anymore." Malfoy's eyes narrowed, "From what I hear, you were nothing much to begin with."

"I'm better than you, but that's not saying much. I suppose any decent human being is above a sneaky little ferret such as yourself." The reminder of his embarassing punishment caused Malfoy's cheeks to fluch, and he drew back his fist...only to be knocked cold by Harry's first.

Shaking his hand, Harry nodded to two second years, "Get him out of here." Turning back to the compartment, he found himself faced with a rather irate Hermione. "Harry James Potter! How could you do that? You'll get in trouble for sure this time! You just struck one of the richest wizarding family members!"

"Yeah, and it hurt like hell, too. How'd you not get hurt when you did it last year?"

"Isolated protection charm, but that's not the point! i hit him when all I would get is a detention. You did it where you can go to prison!" Harry grinned and took a seat next to Ron, who was currently engaged in a small duel with one of his chess pieces. "Relax, Hermione, Dumbledore has dirt on 'Lucy'. There's no way I'd get in trouble for hitting his son, not unless he wanted to go to prison."

Hermione tried her hardest to think up some way for that particular scenario to go wrong, but couldn't. Instead, she chose to take her seat with an irritated huff, just as Ron proclaimed himself the victor over his duel with the chess piece.

Harry wasn't quite sure what to expect when he arrived at King's Cross. Dumbledore had only told him that he wouldn't be alone this summer, and that a few aurors would be staying with him, but had neglected to inform him of their identities, or at least some way of locating them.

To be safe, he had tucked his wand up the sleeve of his shirt, and was currenty making his way towards his impatient relatives, who looked none too happy to see him. "Hurry and get your crap in the boot so we can get out of here." Greeting finished, Vernon Dursley turned bback and got into the car. Harry rolled his eyes and did as he was told, before getting into the car himself.

The ride there was uneventful, the only thing of any remarkable note was the sheer number of colors that his uncle's face could turn.

When they arrived at number 4, Vernon waited until Harry had brought his stuff inside before grabbing his nephew by the arm with a vice-like grip. "Now you listen here boy. you've been living here for nearly 15 years, and have yet to earn your keep." Harry decided it would be wiser not to mention the fact that he'd been cooking and cleaning for the Dursleys for most of those 15 years.

"As such, you are going to get a job this summer, and will be giving your money to us as payment for letting you live here."

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but it was quickly shut when the back of his uncle's hand impacted against his face, in the exact same place Voldemort had hit him. trying to blink the stars from his vison, he could feel the coppery tang of blood in his mouth. "There will be no discussion on this boy. You will do as you're told, is that understood?" Harry could only nod.

"You'll be working with an acquaintance of mine, who works in the landscaping business. He will be picking you up here tomorrow at 6:30, and I've already told him that all payments are to be made to me, and I know exactly how much you'll be getting, so there'll be no skimming or stealing involved. Now, get out of my sight."

As he lay in his bed that night, Harry couldn't help but wonder how long it would be before the guards that Dumbledore had hired would get here, because his summer was already turning out to be one of the worst in history.

A loud honking from outside the house jerked Harry awake. briefly trying to wrap his foggy mind around why someone would be honking their horn outside the house, he glanced at his alarm clock. 6:45. Then it hit him. Cursing, he rolled out of bed and threw on a fresh shirt, not bothering to change out of his jeans.

He tore out the front door, not caring if the slamming woke the Dursleys up. He was greeted by the sight of a large white pick-up in the drive way, with the words "Shacklebolt Landscaping" painted on the side. The driver of the truck was a large black man shaved completely bald, with a gold earring in his left ear. "You the one Dursley had me hire?"

"Yeah, sorry I'm late. Slept in." The man grinned, "No shit. just make sure it doesn't happen again, alright? 'Kay, hop in, we'll probably be a little late to the site, but that's okay."

Harry did as he was instructed, barely managing to clip his seat belt before the man took off down the street, tires squealing. "Names, Kingsley Shacklebolt, and I own this company. We do every kind of landscaping, from planting flowers, to digging out 200 year old trees. Right now, we're headed out towards a lady who wants a whole bunch of rocks taken out of her yard, and then a double-level garden put in, as well as a few trees. Your job, as the new guy, will be to get the rocks out of there and in the backs of the trucks, while the rest of us handle the more delicate stuff. Do you have a license yet?"

Harry shook his head, "No sir, I haven't had the chance yet, I go to a boarding school for most of the year. Right, well you might want to get one. I don't want to have to pick you up every morning for the entire summer. If you want, I've got an old motorbike that I'm not using anymore. i'll let you buy it off me cheap."

Harry simply grunted. There was no wya he'd have any money this summer, and he very idea of his uncle allowing him a driver's license was laughable.

They drove in silence for a few more minutes before they fnally pulled into the driveway of what looked to be a large victorian-style home with a huge lawn that was absolutely covered in rocks, the smallest of which had to be the size of Harry's head.

Looking around, Harry noticed that there were at least three other pick-ups there, each identical to the one he had just ridden in. He also saw who he presumed to be the others working under Shacklebolt. One was a woman who looked to be in her very early teens, with bright pink hair that was cut chort, tan cargo pants and a grey tank top that outlined a trim stomach and well-developed bust.

Another woman was there, about the same age as the one with the pink hair, but she had brown hair pulled back into a ponytail, and wore jeans with a white t-shirt. The last was a tall, clean-shaven man with black hair cut short and brown eyes. Something about the man reminded Harry of someone, but he couldn't figure out who.

"Alright guys, this is the new guy, Harry. Harry, this is Cassy," he pointed to the woman with pink hair, who winked at him, "Jennifer, though she prefers Jenn," he pointed to the brunette, "and last we have Seth." the four of them exchanged various greetings and handshaks, before Kingsley turned to Harry, "okay, you remember what I told you. all these rocks get piled up in the backs of the trucks. When you're done with that, come talk to me."

Cassy frowned, looking from the rocks to Harry's frame. "Hey boss, are you sure you should be giving him that job? He looks like he could blow over at any minute." Harry threw her a dark look which she ignored.

"He'll do fine. Come on people, get to work."

After about fifteen minutes of lifting rocks, Harry was glad that it was early enough that the sun had yet to warm the earth, as he was literally dripping with sweat. Dropping a particularly heavy rock in the bed of Kingsley's truck, he wiped sweat from his brow. "Hey, Harry!" From across the yard, Kingsley was there, shirt off, with a bag of compost over his shoulder. "If you're getting too hot, just take your shirt off. I'm sure you can't be that scrawny." With a chuckle, the man walked off.

Harry frowned, and again fingered the scar across his chest. he was incredibly self-conscious about it. It was hiedous, ugly, and only served to remind him of the pain he had recieved when he had got it.

However, at the rate things were going, he would be roasted alive if he didn't find a way to cool down. Eventually, his desire to avoid heatstroke won out, and he removed his shirt, throwing it over the branch of a tree before resuming his work. The scar protested its exposure to sunlight, but Harry ignored it.

Half an hour later, Seth came out from the back yard, and when he caught sight of harry screamed in mock agony. "Aagh! My eyes, they burn!" Harry grit his teeth in annoyance and ignored the man, continuing with the rocks. Seth just stood there, watching him for a while, but taking a srange interest in the scar on his chest, before Jennifer calling his name jerked him from his study.

It was another two hourse before Harry was finished with the rocks, and he was exhausted. He closed the bed door on the last truck before turning and making his way to the back to get his next assignment.

All four of them were there, digging about half a meter into the ground next to th stone wall that marked the edge of their client's yard. Noticing Harry as the boy made his way over to them, Kingsley dumped the soil he had in his shovel into a wheelbarrow before turning his attention to him. 'You finished with the rocks?"

Harry, too tired to speak, nodded. "Good. Now, what I want you to do is take these wheelbarrows when they're full and carry them to the front. A dump truck's coming in about 5 minutes, so when it does, grab a shovel from my truck and start dumping the dirt from the barrow into it, got it?"

Harry was beginning to hate Kingsley Shacklebolt.

The group worked until noon, when a lunch break was called. Harry of course, didn't have a lunch, so he simply sat underneath a tree, ejoying the brief respite. Every muscle in his body ached, and his hands were blistered and blody, unused to using these kinds of tools for long periods of time.

"Hey, why you all the way over here by yourself?" Harry opened his eyes to see Seth, apple in hand, sitting down next to him. "Shade.' Answered Harry simply. He closed his eyes again, therefore missing Seth's unwavering stare at his scar. "You don't have a lunch." "Didn't have time to make one, and even if I did, my relatives won't allow me to touch their food without their express permission. It's no big deal though, I'm used to going without lunch."

Seth's face turned dark, but he said nothing, instead looking at the apple in his hand. After a while, he tossed it into harry's lap. "You can have that, if you want. I'm full. Besides, can't have you collapsing from hunger while on the job, now can we?"

Harry mumbled a thanks, before taking a big bite out of the fruit.

The rest of the day was uneventful, though Harry could barely move by the time Shacklebolt dropped him off at number 4. Entering the house, he ignored the voices coming from the kitchen and made his way to his room, where he kicked off his shoes, before falling on his bed, asleep instantly.


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the Tides of War

Chapter 3 (rewrite)

The rest of the week progressed pretty much the same as the first day had, though Harry did notice that he was starting to have an easier time lifting and hauling the various supplies and tool needed for his job.

Finally, after nearly 12 days working on the yard, the job was done, and the client was extremely pleased with the results, and tipped each of them personally. Harry made sure to hide the money he got from the others.

As they were packing up their tools and such, Kinglsey went around and gave everyone their paychecks. When he got to Harry, he seemed to pause for a second, before digging into his pocket and handing Harry about 400 pounds (I'm using the current exchange rate for dollars to punds, which is about 2 to 1, so Harry got about 200 dollars). At Harry's confused look, Kinglsey explained. "When your uncle came to me about employing you, he had said that you were lazy and uncooperative. Your work here has disproved that, so, I'm paying you in cash so he doesn't suspect anything."

Harry's face hardened, "I didn't do enough work to warrant getting paid twice, sir." Kingsley grinned, "You're right, but you will be soon enough." He glanced down at Harry's abused hands. "I would suggest that you get yourself a good pair of gloves and proper work clothes that actually fit you."

As the man walked away, Harry felt a strong urge to tell the man that the reason his clothes didn't fit was because he got all of Dudley's old clothes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Kingsley was true to his word. Since the group wouldn't get paid until the job was done, the man was able to make sure that Harry did indeed work enough to earn two paychecks, one for himself, and the other for his uncle. This, of course, meant that he was doing twice as much work as anyone else, but he never complained, even though it meant he had to skip breaks and lunch.

For the first few days, it was quite difficult, but, as time went on, Harry actually found himself enjoying the feel of his muscles being worked and the satisfying knowledge of having accomplished something. That feeling was what had led him to get a punching bag (without his uncle's knowledge, of course), which he put up in his room, where it hung underneath his invisibility cloak when he wasn't using it.

The hard work was also having a positive effect on his physique. He had started to fill out some, the result of hours of heavy lifting, as well as gaining a nice tan from working in the sun all day.

Despite all of this, he had not forgotten the incidents of his previous school year, and had also been training heavily in magic, including some in potions. It was remarkable what you could get right when a greasy git wasn't breathing down your neck.

At first, he reviewed all of the spells he had learned so far at Hogwarts, and, when that was done, started to work on some advanced subjects, courtesy of some books provided by the headmaster.

While Harry was grateful, not to mention extremely busy, he couldn't help but worry about his supposed bodyguards. He had not heard anything about them since Dumbledore had mentioned them before he left for the summer hols. Perhaps the people had been unwilling to give up their jobs to guard a teenager like himself? he could understand that, really. Why risk a secure job to guard a Dark-Lord-Attack prone teenager with a penchant for having trouble find him?

This all changed, however, one fateful day. Of course, that day happened to be Harry's birthday, which he was currently spending arranging some slate for a pathway. It had first started with the change in temperature, and a distant ringing in his ears. Breath steaming before his eyes, he stood abruptly and slid his wand out from underneath his sleeve.

All sound stood still, until he heard a scream echo from down the street. Without thinking, he tore off towards it, ignoring the cres of his work-mates. He ran as hard as he could, blood pounding in his ears, as his lungs filled with the now-icy air. The ringing in his ears increased to the sounds of someone screaming. Gritting his teeth, he continued to run.

Then the feeling increased sharply, and he stopped. He was at the southernmost edge of the park, and he could see a huddled mass lying on the grass, while two Dementors hovered over them. Snarling, Harry ran straight at them.

The Dementors hissed, before gliding towards him. Harry whipped his wand in front of him and thought of when he had first learned he was a wizard. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" Silver burst from his wand, but it wasn't quite what he had expected. Prongs was there, of course, but another shape took form as well. It started with a triangular head, topped by two vicious-looking horns, then a long, sinewy neck adorned with razor-sharp spines, then wings...

Harry watched amazed as a Hungarian Horntail burst from his wand, landing neatly next to Prongs. It looked at the stag briefly, sniffing it once, before turning its attention to the nearest Dementor. Silently growling, it launched forward and engulfed the upper half of the Dementor in its jaws, before giving one terrific shake, ripping the Dementor in half. The creature shrieked, before the two halves dissolved into dust.

Harry was stunned. He had no idea Dementors could be killed, though he also had no idea you could have more than one patronus, either.

Prongs seemed to take the Horntail's gruesome show as a challenge, as it charged the last dementor, ripping into it with its antlers, before it too, dissolved into dust.

The patroni looked at ech other, then Harry, before they disappeared. Immediately, Harry sagged against a nearby tree. The effort of casting and maintaining the spell had rained him of his energy quickly.

"How'd you manage to get two patroni?" Harry whirled, wand raised and pointed in the direction the voice had come from. His brain shut down when he saw that it was Kingsley and the others, all of them with a look of awe on their faces. "What in the name of merlin's blue balls..."

Cassy raised an eyebrow at his curse. Suddely, her hair shifted color, from bubblegum pink to lightning blue. "I don't think he's realised it yet, Shacklebolt." The man grinned. "I'm surprised, Harry. Dumbledore kept talking about how intelligent you were. I would have thought that you'd figure it out by now."

Then it clicked. "You're my bodyguards?"

Kinglsey nodded. "Kingsley Shacklebolt, former senior auror, now full-time guard of Harry Potter." Then Jenn stood forward, "Hestia Jones, mate." The other woman came to step forward, "Nymphadora Tonks, though if you call me by any version of my first name, I'll skin you alive."

Harry nodded (she was really quite scary) and then looked to Seth. "And who is he?" Seth put on a look of extreme hurt. "Harry? Don't you recognise your own sweet, innocent, godfather? How could such a travesty occur?"

Harry deadpanned, "You shaved and took a shower. And if you're innocent, I'll gnaw my hands off." Going quiet, he observed his guards for a minute, before "So you guys are my guards? What was the deal with the whole landscaping thing?"

Shacklebolt grinned, "Well, I really do own that company, since landscaping is one of my hobbies, but we figured that if we managed to get you to work for us, we could keep an eye on you, as well as get you out of that horrible house. However, Dumbledore informed us that when you became aware of who we really were, two of us would need to stay with you. I've got a family, so I'm out." Sirius looked at Harry apologetically, "Sorry Harry, but I'm still a criminal, and your 'relatives' will recognise me."

Dread began to fill Harry, "No...no no no no no..." Shacklebolt grinned evilly, "Harry, say hi to your two new roommates, Tonks and Hestia."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"God hates me."

Those were Harry's words as he and his godfather were walking to the Dursley's house. The others were ahead of them, whispering suspiciously. The 'huddled mass' in the park actually turned out to be Dudley, who, thankfully, still had his soul. Right now, it was taking two _levitocorpus_'s to keep him up.

"I'm sure he doesn't Harry. If anything, he loves you by blessing you with the presence of two highly attractive women." The boy-who-was-hated snorted. "Right, they're what, 6, maybe 7 years older than me? Besides, with Voldemort back, I'm a walking target. Not only that, but they're my guards. That kind of thing only happens in cheesy romance novels."

Sirius grinned, "And how would you know that?" Harry gagged, "I caught Ginny reading one last year. It was actually kind of creepy, the main character was known as "Harold Porter", had green eyes, a moon scar on his arm, and rode a hippogriff named "Bucky". he would go around fighting his arch-nemesis Waldo Mort, and of course, pick up the fair maiden. Thankfully I managed to grab it and throw it in the dragon's fire during the first task."

When he was done describing the tale of doom, Sirius was rolling on the street, howling with laughter, tears pouring from his eyes. "Ha... Harold...Porter... Waldo mort...it's just too rich! I can't take it." "I'm glad you find my pain amusing."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

When they finally reached number 4, Kingsley motioned for Harry to open the door. When he did, it was as if the room blew up. "WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO OUR SON, YOU LITTLE FREAK?!" Harry ignore his uncle's blustering to bring Dudley's floating mass inside and on the couch, which groaned loudly in protestation.

"I asked you what did you do to our son? Speak boy!" Before anyone could stop him, he backhanded Harry across the face, just like he had earlier in the summer. Instantly, four wands were trained on him, and the man froze, his face going white.

Harry stood, spitting out blood from his mouth onto the immculate living room carpet. "I saved the prat's life, for whatever strange reason. Now, since I'm a nice guy, I'm telling you now, there will be people living here, other than you and myself. They will be in my room. you are not to bother them, and they will not bother you. is that understood?"

Vernon'sface turned puce, and he opened his mouth, but harry cut him off before he could say anything. "Is that understood, uncle?" Power radiated from Harry, his eyes glowing with an ehtereal green light. It was enough to reduce his uncle to a quivering mess.

Sighing, Harry turned to the others. "Tonks, hestia, my room's upstairs, first door on the right. Down the hall is the bathroom, in case you were wondering." Tonks grinned, "Harry, I had no idea you were such a charmer, inviting two girls to stay in your room."

Harry blushed, and tried to erase the images her words produced in his head. "It's not like that, Tonks. you and Hestia will have my new room, and I'll go back to my old one." Sirius looked around. "Uh, Harry? This doesn't look to be more than a three bedroom house. What room are you talking about?" Harry simply pointed to a cupboard door underneath the stairs, numerous locks attached on the outside. Vernon began to look a little green.

"What, is there another room upstairs?" Harry rolled his eyes at his moronic godfather. "No, you mutt. I'm referring to the one underneath it." Sirius frowned, "But that's a cupboard." Harry threw him a 'no, you think' look, before going over and opening it. True to his word, there was a small cot in there, with a single light, all of which was covered in dust. "I've been in there for ten years, what's a few more weeks?"

The whole room was silent. Then Sirius launched himself at Vernon, kicking him full force in the chin. Then he began his animagus transformation, snarling as he brought his dripping cannes closer to Vernon's throat...

Suddenly, he was thrown back by a jet of red light from Tonks' wand. "Regardless of how much I want to do the same, the paperwork involved would be long and tedious." She turned to Harry, "You'll be staying with us, no if's and's or but's about it." Hestia grinned, "Well, except for our butts, maybe."

Harry turned beet red, "That's not really appropriate, you know." Tonks rolled her eyes, "Would you rather do the appropriate thing and die? Don't answer that." The last was a response to Harry opening his mouth.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Well, this is it." Tonks was fairly impressed. Though Harry was a teenaged boy, he managed to keep his room relatively neat and tidy. A small bed was pushed into the corner, unmade. Above it were two bookshelves that were built into the wall. Right now, the shelves only held a few books, most of which, Tonks noted, were advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts books. On the other side of the room, right next to the window was an owl perch, where a beautiful Snow owl was currently sleeping, as well as a desk littered with more books and some parchment.

There was something strange, though. in the very middle of the room, there seemed to be a vacant spot, as if something should be there, but wasn't.

Her pondering was answered when Harry walked past the area with his hand up. He seemed to grab hold of something and pulled, revealing an old punching bag that looked as if it had gotten a fair bit of use.

Tonks shared a look with Hestia. The boy was certainly interesting, that was for sure.

Harry cleared his throat nervously. "Well, seeing as it's late and all, I'll got get changed, you two can have the room. I'll knock before entering."

Grabbing a pair of pajam bottoms and a white t-shirt, he practically flew out the door. Hestia raised an eyebrow, "I think the lad's afraid we're poisonous or something." Tonks replied as she pulled on her night clothes, "It could be he's never shared his room with a girl before." The two of them paused. "Nah."

A while later, they heard Harry knocking on the door. "Come in."

Harry entered, and froze.

The sight of the two women caused Harry jr. to start to stand at attention. Hestia was wearing a simple overlarge T-shirt, showing off her long, tanned, and shapely legs. Her hair was currently out of its ponytail, causing it fall to about shoulder level.

Tonks was wearing a pair of flannel pajamas, like Harry, but her top consisted of a spaghetti strap shirt, which showed that Tonks did not wear a bra to bed. Harry's mind shut down, as he mentally prayed for Harry Jr. to stand at ease, though, that was difficult, as he was finding himself having trouble breathing.

He managed to squeak out, "Good night." before diving to the floor, where a pillow and spare blanket awaited him.

The two women waited until they heard Harry's breathing steady before talking. "Well at least we know he finds us attractive." Said Hestia, as she stared down at the boy. Tonks grinned, "What are you talking about? He was looking at me!" "Yeah, well, that's probably because you're advertising the fact that you're not wearing a bra." Tonks fushed before regaining her composure.

"Oh well, so what? It's not like he's bad to look at." That was certainly true. The weeks of hard labor had done wonders for him. What had once been a lightly muscled (thanks to Quidditch) scrawny little boy now more closely resembled the lean and powerful frame of a swimmer.

"If i didn't know better, Tonks, I'd say you want to do more than look." Tonks blushed again. She had certainly though about it. After all, she was a young witch, and like many before her, had given thought to the idea of being with the boy-who-lived. her fantasy had been shattered when she actually saw him for who he really was; a reluctant hero, forced to shoulder the burdens of a war before he was even fifteen.

"Even if I did, Hest, he has enough on his plate already. Besides, he's 6 years younger than me." The other woman grinned, "So, that wouldn't stop me." Tonks threw the woman a look. "What? Stranger things have happened." Tonks groaned before giving Hestia a quick peck on the lips and laying down on the bed. "You're going to corrupt our youth, hest."


	4. Chapter 4

Harry Potter and the Tides of War

Chapter 4

**'allo, it's me again, with another update, I know it's been a while, but hopefully, this will tide you guys over. Also, I decided t take a leaf out of David Letterman's book, and create a 'Top Ten' list. Today's topic:**

**TOP TEN THINGS YOU WILL NEVER HEAR FROM A DEATH EATER**

**Do you moisturize? - Macnair**

**My first career choice was a United Way worker – Bellatrix Lestrsnge**

**Do these robes make me look fat? – Goyle senior**

**Tell me Avery, where did daddy touch you? - Rodolphus**

**I'm so pretty, oh so pretty!- Lucius Malfoy**

**I have magic fingers, tee-hee! – Wormtail**

**Wormwood with Asphodel in a bottle? Brilliant! – Severus**

**I've got a pretty impressive broomstick myself – Draco Malfoy**

**I've got this strange itching in my crotch – 'Crabbe'**

**And finally…**

**We wuv muggles!**

Next time: Top ten things you don't want to hear at an Order of the Phoenix meeting.

**Number 5) – Mum, I'm pregnant – Ginny**

Harry woke up right at the crack of dawn, a habit he had developed thanks to the early hours of his new job. Groaning softly, he swung his head from side to side, grinning at the satisfying pops that sounded from his stiff neck.

"You know, Harry, that's not good for you." Tonks' sleepy voice said from the bed.

Harry snorted, "Yes well, I'm less worried about neck injuries right now than I am about psuedo-human Dark Lords chasing after me." A pause. "You have a point."

Tonks' tussled hair appeared as she sat up in the bed. "Get ready, we 're leaving for work in 15 minutes. That should give you plenty of time to change." Harry nodded, grabbed a change of clothes, and went to the bathroom to change.

Tonks frowned. "I was rather hoping he would change in here." Hestia stirred next to her. "Good luck. That boy probably wouldn't think naughty thoughts about a woman unless she gave him permission."

Work at the site was really no different, though Sirius did regale Harry with some of the more questionable activities he undertook with the Marauders.

"The welcoming feast of our fifth year was the best. We had spent the entire summer after 4th year thinking it up. We enchanted some of those mannequins used for sizing robes to move and look like the teachers, and had them perform the 'Nutcracker' Ballet. Naturally, Dumbledore was the lead dancer."

Harry shivered in disgust at the very thought of the ancient man dressed in tights prancing about the Great Hall.

Sirius dumped a bag of sod down next to the outline for the elevated garden they were building. "So Harry, how was it sleeping in the same room as two beautiful girls?"

Harry's face turned red.

"Nothing happened, Padfoot. I slept on the floor and they slept in the bed."

The man got a dreamy look on his face. "They slept in the same bed? Together? Heh heh heh…." A bit of drool escaped from the corner of his mouth.

His perverted daydreams were interrupted when Harry 'accidentally' hit him in the back of the head with another bag of sod.

They worked until noon, when Kingsley told them that they were to head back to begin Harry's training. Said boy threw them a questioning look, but Sirius motioned for him to stay quiet. The adults conferred with each other for a bit before Sirius waved goodbye and left with Kingsley to Merlin-knew-where. Tonks, Hestia, and himself made their way back to Number 4.

Along the way, they passed by the park. Apparently Dudley and his gang had been exerting their influence over it, and it was littered with trash and debris. One lone boy was playing in the sandbox with a toy before Dudley and Piers walked up to him, kicking the toy away.

The kid reached for the toy, but was knocked back by a kick from Dudley. Harry frowned, before walking over to them.

"Dudley, what the hell are you doing?" The wizard's cousin glanced at him, fear flickering faintly in his eyes.

"What the hell are you doing here, freak? Shouldn't you be off at your job or something? My friends and I are busy." Harry leaned to the side to check on the little boy. The whole left side of his face was discolored, the early signs of massive bruising.

Shaking his head, Harry turned his attention back to his cousin. "Dudley, you went too far. You know his parents are going to have something to say about this. That bruise is not something he'll be able to hide due to fear."

The other boy sneered. "Really? Well, if anyone starts asking, I'll just tell them that the resident criminal did it. After all, you're the only boy here who goes to a school for criminals."

Harry's gaze turned frosty. "You know damn well what school I go to, Dudley, and you know what I'm capable of. Though, you never really had any brains to begin with, so I'm not that surprised that you would remember that."

Whale-boy snarled, taking a step forward. Any further movement towards Harry was stalled by the arrival of Tonks and Hestia. "Wotcher, Harry, who's this?" Harry grunted.

"He's my cousin." Hestia stared bug-eyed. "Only one? He looks like he might be the equivalent to three or four cousins."

"Yes well, his weight will no doubt come back to bite him in his rather substantial arse." Dudley's face turned an ugly shade of puce. "Who the hell are you two?"

Tonks and Hestia looked at each other before grinning evilly. As one, they each wrapped an arm around Harry's waist. "Why, we're Harry's girlfriends." Then Tonks leaned in and kissed him full on the mouth.

Now, Harry was still frozen stiff by the fact that two beautiful witches had wrapped their arms around him, but that didn't mean that his senses didn't still work. So, when Tonks kissed him, he discovered that she tasted somewhat like cherries, and smelled like some sort of flower that made his knees weak. Of course, even his senses decided to fail when she stuck her tongue in his mouth. At that point, Voldemort could have shown up, and Harry would have cheerfully told him to sod off.

When Tonks finally decided to break it off, her cheeks were flushed, and she was all but panting. But the look on Dudley's face was priceless. His eyes were bugging out of his head, and his jaw dropped. He shook himself once before regaining control over himself.

"Yeah right! There's no way that freak could have gotten a girlfriend that hot, let alone two! You must have done something to them!" This time it was hestia who responded.

"Oh, he did _some_thing alright." Then she too kissed him, though not quite as vigorously as Tonks. She tasted like cinnamon.

Dudley got a furious look on his face before calling his gang to him and stalking away. Harry decided to postpone his questions about the actions of the women for a later time in lieu of helping the boy.

Walking up to the lad, he sat on his haunches and addressed him, "Hi, I'm Harry, who are you?" The lad, face now heavily swollen, managed to reply, "I'm not supposed to talk to strangers."

Harry chuckled. "Well now, I suppose I could understand that. Alright, how about this: You don't have to tell me anything you don't think is safe, okay, I'm just trying to help you." The boy eyed him suspiciously, before nodding. Harry clapped his hands together and rubbed them.

"Okay! First question: How's your face? I can see it's swollen and it's obviously painful, but does anything feel wrong, out of lace or anything like that?" The boy got a weird look on his face, before moving his tongue around his mouth and spitting out a bloody tooth, thankfully it was a baby tooth. After that, the boy shook his head.

Gritting his teeth, Harry move don to the next question. "Alright, how old are you." The boy said nothing. "What's your name?" Again, nothing.

Sighing, Harry tried again, "Do you live nearby?" A nod. "Where?" The boy pointed to a house on the other side of the park. Harry was shocked that the child would point out where he lived, but understood when he saw the police cruiser parked in the driveway.

"Right, since you live so close and you see to be able to walk, I'll let you be. However, if you parents want to talk to me or something like that, tell them to ask for me at Number 4, okay?" The boy nodded and ran to his home.

Shaking his head, Harry turned and resumed his journey towards number 4, Tonks and Hestia on either side of him. "Why did you two kiss me? I could have handled Dudley and his gang just fine by myself." Tonks grinned.

"Yeah, but it wouldn't have been nearly as fun! Besides, the look on his face was priceless." Hestia nodded her head vigourously in agreement.

"Why do I feel like I'm the only adult here?"

When they got back to Number 4, they had a quick lunch before starting training. The very first thing they were going to do was have a mock duel to see where Harry stood.

Their dueling room was a portion of his bedroom that Tonks had expanded temporarily, which had been reinforced with numerous shielding charms. The two of them faced off against each other.

Harry refused to bow, remembering well how he had been forced to do so at the graveyard, instead, he just launched into action, sending a stunner towards Tonks, who merely batted it aside with her wand, not even bothering to dodge. Shocked, Harry sent a reductor at her. The Reductor was a blasting curse, meant for inanimate objects. On a human being, the results of the spell were…messy. Tonks simply twitched her wand again and sent the spell into the ground.

It was at that point that Harry realized how well and truly fucked he was.

Tonks frowned at his attempts. "From what I've heard about you, I would have expected better, but apparently the stories were exaggerated. I guess I'll have to take the initiative."

She let off with a sickly-yellow curse, one which he remembered reading about when getting ready for the third task of the tournament. It was border-line dark, used primarily by aurors to incapacitate their quarry. It completely killed all of the nerves in the part of the body that it hit. What made it so dangerous was that if it hit the spine or head, it would kill the target.

Cursing, Harry rolled to the right and sent off a cutting curse aimed at her leg. The spell shattered against a hastily created shield. She responded with a concussion hex that caught him right in the gut, knocking him back and removing his wind. Wheezing, he looked up just in time to dodge a bludgeoning hex which would have surely knocked him out. Unfortunately, that brought him rather close to Tonks, who promptly kneed him in the face, knocking him out.

When he came to, his sight was filled with the image of a frowning Tonks. "What the hell was that Harry? Are those stories about you completely false, or just you puffing up your ego?"

Harry decided to ignore that question in favor of asking one of his own. "Are you mental, you could have seriously hurt me with some of those spells!" Tonks got a confused look on her face, before it was replaced with dawning realization.

"Harry, let me guess, you were treating this as just another duel, am I right?" At his cautious nod, she continued. "you can't do that here. When we're dueling, we are not your friends or even lovers" he blushed at that "we are an opponent, someone who wants to hurt you. So, you have to do your damndest to hurt us back. Now, get up, we'll try this again"

The second time, Harry lasted much longer, almost five minutes, before he was absolutely crushed underneath a barrage of spells when he had stood his ground.

"That was better, but you stood still for too long, which allowed me to focus on overwhelming your defenses, which, quite frankly, is a great deal easier than trying to hit you when you're moving. Again, and this time, keep moving."

They did it again and again, stopping only when Tonks declared that it was time for dinner. Harry simply dropped to the floor from exhaustion. He had lost every duel that they had, though his time was getting better. He had managed to last 10 minutes at the end, but that was only because he had foregone casting in favor of dodging. Tonks, on the other hand, was barely breathing hard.

Dinner was a simple affair. Hestia had pre-made it at her house and so all they had to do was warm it up. It consisted of boneless chicken breast, smothered with egg noodles, all covered in alfredo sauce. Harry barely had enough energy to chew. When lights out was called after dinner, he was asleep before his head hit the pillow.

For two weeks, that was his schedule. Work in the morning at a jobsite, then spend the afternoon practicing either dueling or increasing his strength, speed and stamina.

Usually, that meant weight training, but they also started him on muggle hand-to-hand, citing that it helped with coordination (oddly enough, Tonks rarely ever tripped during these events) and flexibility, both of which were great during duels.

He personally liked it (despite the numerous bruises he received) because it allowed him to focus on something other than the two women he was living with.

It was understandable. They were both highly attractive women, each in their own right. Hestia had a sort of 'girl-next-door' air about her, while Tonks was the adventurous and troublemaking girl one never brought home to mum. It was also understandable, considering Harry was a 14, soon to be fifteen, year old boy, with hormones raging full speed. It seemed every little thing that they did was meant as a tease to him. When Tonks sweated, causing her shirt to cling to her curves, Harry was sure it was done on purpose. When Hestia wore skintight jeans, she always seemed to have to bend over to pick something up, giving Harry a glimpse of the thin strip of fabric which screamed 'thong' to his teenage mind. It was excruciating. He didn't even have the privacy of his own room to wank off in; he had to do it in the shower.

As a result, he channeled all of that pent-up frustration into his training and work. His productivity in both escalated, and only continued to grow, seeming without end. In fact, he was progressing so quickly that it was scaring the two aurors watching over him.

After Harry had destroyed a training dummy with a particularly strong reducto, Tonks decided that it was time for them to have a little chat. Grabbing his arm, she was shocked to feel how much muscle he had put on during the training. Shaking her head mentally, she pulled him to a side of the room, opposite Hestia who was currently brewing pepper-up potions.

"Harry, are you okay?" He threw her a puzzled look. "What do you mean? I'm fine." Tonks raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Then the sudden jump in the tempo of our duels, or the overpowered spells? Something's going on, and I want to make sure that it's not going to interfere with our work."

_If only you knew_, thought Harry, _that you and Hestia are the reasons. I'm turning fucking blue, and having to channel it through activities._ "I'm fine Tonks, I just want to learn everything I can before going back to school, that's all."

Despite the image her appearance presented, Tonks could very easily be a serious person. And, being a metamorphmagus, she also had an intimate knowledge of the human body. Looking into Harry's eyes, she discovered what it was. Every time he looked at either her or Hestia, his pulse would quicken, and his pupils dilate.

Se felt her own pulse quicken. For a while, she had been wondering whether anything the two of them would do could affect the boy. Apparently, they did, he was just too damn good at hiding his feelings unless one were to look closely. Deciding to toy with him just a little more, Tonks leaned over slightly to look him in the eye- he had grown much taller over the summer- providing him with an unobstructed view down her shirt. He seized up.

"You know what I think?" Her voice was smoky, and the simple sound of it tightened his pants in interesting ways. "I think you're lying." He gulped, his hands beginning to shake. "I think you're having naughty thoughts about Hestia and myself. Are you?"

He was, of course, in no position to answer that kind of a question on a good day, so the most he could achieve was a squeak.

Tonks smiled a sultry smile "Why you naughty boy. You have, haven't you? Well, I've got news for you." Harry felt as if his stomach were about to jump out of his throat. She no doubt had some sort of exotic torture set up to punish him. "You're not alone."

In his mind, Harry heard tires squeal, followed soon after by metal crunching. _Huh?_ Tonks licked her lips. "You're not the only one who's been having naught ideas and dreams. I must admit, most of mine can't be done legally until you're sixteen, but there is plenty of other things that are almost as fun. Hestia, poor sheltered girl she is, hasn't got past the pg-13 rating. Maybe we should educate her…"

As she said that last sentence, she began to move n closer and closer, until, at last, their lips met. It wasn't as good as the one in the park two weeks ago; it was better. Stars seemed to explode behind his eyes, and, inexperienced though he was, he tried to emulate her tongue's movements when she pushed it into his mouth.

His efforts earned him a groan from Tonks loud enough to distract Hestia, who, when turning around to investigate, added one more bat talon than was needed, turning the potion from a pepper-up to one that would cause uncontrollable sexual urges.

Strangely enough, that very vial was destined for Snape, who would give it to Voldemort upon the Dork Lord's request, which led to interesting happenings including various death eaters, whipped cream, and a snake.

But right now, Hestia was simply shocked that Harry was snogging Tonks (quite enthusiastically too, she wondered is she would have to step in if things began to get too far). Her worrying was interrupted, however, by the sound of numerous _crack_'s filling the air. Glancing out the window, she cursed upon seeing numerous death eaters standing in the middle of Privet Drive.

"We got company!" She yelled as she grabbed various potions, two of which were a bright yellow, with orange streaks in it. Her warning was unneeded, though, as Tonks and Harry had already broken apart, both reaching for their wands. Within a second, all of Harry's things were packed and shrunk and in his pocket. Hestia pressed a little gold medallion that hung around her neck, and it flashed three times, before more cracks filled the air, and more wizards and witches appeared. Immediately, the light was filled with beams of multi-colored light.

Harry snarled, taking off, the warnings of Tonks and Hestia falling on deaf ears. Throwing open his front door, he was immediately confronted with a death eater who pointed its wand at him. Harry grabbed its arm and spun it under his own, locking it under his armpit, before bringing his other arm up, hand palm up, and smashing it into the elbow of the locked arm. The death eater gave a cry before Harry formed his knuckles into a blade and smashed it into the death eater's throat. It collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

Drawing his wand, Harry turned his attention back to the rest of the battle. Seeing a particularly large death eater engaged against Kingsley, he waved his wand and muttered, before a blasting curse caught the bigot in its wand arm, blowing it off at the shoulder. Kingsley took that opportunity to stun it and nodded once to Harry before moving on.

Scanning the street again, Harry saw a death eater about to launch a familiar green spell at a blonde-haired witch who had her back turned.

Before the bastard had a chance to finish the incantation, he found himself missing a good portion of his chest, courtesy of a reducto. He gurgled once before falling over, dead. Harry, unfazed, began to walk forward, casting blasting curses left and right. Most of his spells met nothing but air, but a goodly few met targets. Where they were glances, they blew off limbs and extremities, but where they were direct hits, the targets were either launched into the air or simply exploded in a shower of gore.

The killing didn't bother Harry nearly as much as he though it would. He already had killed, remembering the incident with Quirrell his first year of Hogwarts. He doubted it would bother him too much, at least until the war was over.

So engrossed was he in his pattern of blasting curses that he missed the Death eater that tackled him from behind. He sprawled out on the ground, his wand rolling away. Growling, he lashed out with an elbow, catching the death eater in the side of the head, right at the soft part of the temple. There was a sickening squish sound, before the Death eater let go in order to clutch at his wound. Harry rolled onto his back and punched the death eater in the gut, it gave a great wheeze, before passing out. As it fell, Harry could see that its left eye was deformed and leaking clear fluid, a shard of bone sticking into it.

Shaking his head, Harry got up and retrieved his wand, just in time to block a light blue spell shot at him from Wormtail. Seeing his spell fail, all of the little courage that the rat-like man had managed to muster deserted him, and he attempted to flee, only to be clothes-lined by a grim Sirius. The impact knocked Wormtail out instantly.

A death eater, obviously not aware of his surroundings, stepped up next to Harry, firing off killing curses as fast as he could. Rolling his eyes, Harry kicked the man in the side of the knee, snapping the leg at the joint. As the death eater fell forward, he was met with Harry's knee, knocking him out.

Glancing around the rest of the street, Harry looked on with amusement as the witches and wizards mopped up the rest of the scum. A groan at his feet drew his attention. He kicked the man. "Quiet, you."

Sirius, half of his face blackened by some strange spell, walked up to him, grinning like a madman. "Merlin's right testicle that was fun! Best action I've had since that belly dancer in Majorca!"

Deciding to ignore that latter statement, Harry asked, "How did they find me here? I thought the wards wouldn't allow anyone who intended to harm me near this place."

Dumbledore, whom Harry had failed to notice during the short fight, walked up. "I do believe that when Voldemort performed the blood ritual which provided him with a body, also granted him access to areas that were designed to protect your blood, and thus yourself."

Kingsley kneeled down to a death eater and ripped open the robes, revealing a pale chest and a pendant with a thick red liquid in a vial molded into it. "Blood vials", stated the auror, "Crude, but definitely effective."

A sudden shout drove their attention away from the pendant. A death eater, wakening from his forced sleep, had grabbed a small child, who was staring wide-eyed at them.

With a start, Harry realized that he recognized the child as being the one from the park. With a growl, he started forward, wand pointed straight at the Death Eater's head.

"Stop right there!" Screamed the Death eater, its usual smooth baritone panicked and frightful.

"Where do you think you will go, Mr. Malfoy? It's almost two dozen to one, not to mention the slightly peeved hippogriff behind you." As a testament to the stupidity of most purebloods, Lucius Malfoy actually looked behind him.

Opening his mouth wide, the kid bit down hard on Malfoy's hand. The man screamed in agony, trying to pry the child off of him. Finally succeeding, he leveled his wand at the whelp "you will pay…"

But the distraction provided by the child allowed Harry to move in closer. Grabbing Malfoy's wand arm, he twisted viciously, and was awarded by the sound of Malfoy's arm popping out of its socket. The man's wand dropped from nerveless fingers.

Snarling disgust, Harry flung the man from him before stalking across the street and into number 4, where he went straight to his room.

Sitting on his bed, he gripped his right wrist tightly, trying to stem the severe shakes that now swept through the extremity. Idly, he noted someone enter the room. Looking, he saw Tonks looking at him with sympathetic eyes. He averted his gaze, hand still gripping his right wrist tightly.

He heard the woman sigh, before she crossed the room to sit beside him on the bed and gently took his head and placed it against her chest.

Harry was wrong. In the heat of battle, his ability to accept death without wavering or faltering was astounding, but when it was over, he truly realized what he had done. Taking in a shuddering breath, he began to hyperventilate, as the shakes spread to the rest of his body. Desperately, he grabbed Tonks' waist, trying to still himself.


	5. Chapter 5

_Harry Potter and the Tides of War_

_Chapter ??_

_**Hey. It's me again, I'm still alive and well, apparently. I'm sorry for the long wait between updates, but life has been a little chaotic for a bit, but I'm now graduated class of 2008, so, I **__**should**_** have more time to update. I make no promises….**

**Top Ten Things you Never Want to hear at an OOTP meeting**

**10.) …And in other news, I have finally washed my hair. -Snape**

**9.) Can we hurry up? My Viagra's about to wear off. -Dumbledore**

**8.) professor, what's a 'circle jerk'?**

**7.) Yeah, the twins got the good stuff. -pothead mundungus**

**6.)…………………………...Go Fish**

**5.) Mum, I'm pregnant. -Ginny**

**4.) Well, we're losing the war, but everyone still gets a golden star!**

**3.) Once again, Potter's hot-bodiness has…oh shit. -Snape**

**2.) Don't these robes make me look FABULOUS?! - Kingsley Shacklebolt, with a **

**gay lisp**

**And number one on the top ten things you don't want to hear at an order of the phoenix meeting….**

**1.) I have to decided to quit being a wizard and go on the road, living a life of drinking, danger and debauchery. - Harry Potter **

**Now on with the story…..**

Harry jerked awake, sitting bolt upright in the bed, wand trained in front of him. He was panting, his eyes rimmed with red and perspiration covering his chest in light sheen that reflected slightly in the early morning rays of the rising sun.

Getting his breathing back under control, Harry looked around, and his chets tightened in fear. He was in an unfamiliar bedroom, the thick layer of dust that covered all of the furniture gave the indication that it was one that was rarely used. He was in a king-sized four-poster bed, with dark red silk sheets and a black comforter. The low light in the room emphasized the dark hue of the wood floor, making it appear almost black. Overall, the general feeling the room gave off was incredibly foreboding.

Narrowing his eyes, he tightened his grip on his wand and exited the bed, idly noting the silk pajama bottoms someone had put on him. Slowly he made his way to the door, wincing every time the ancient wood creaked.

At last he reached the door, and slowly opened it. Stepping into it, he jerked his wand around, scanning for any enemies. The dark portal was empty. Letting out the breath he didn't even know he was holding, he lowered his wand, and, as he did so, heard voices coming from downstairs. Recognizing a few of them, he let himself relax fully before following the hallway to a grand stair case that led to a wide and impressive foyer.

For some reason, on the far wall from the entrance, there was a painting with a curtain covering it, which shook every so often. Shaking his head at what he presumed to be another strange wizarding world oddity, he followed the increasing volume of the voices, whose conversation he was now able to catch snippets of.

"…much too young! He can't…."

"…Not a child anymore…."

"…irresponsible guardian…"

"….attention seeking hooligan…"

After hearing Snape's voice utter that last bit, Harry grit his teeth in annoyance and entered the door.

The room was large, obviously meant for dining. A huge oaken table filled the majority of it, and seated at it were various wizards and witches, some of whom Harry recognized, while others he had never seen before. Ignoring them for the moment, he said, "I hope you're not talking about me, _Professor_ Snape. After all, people talking about me might give me a swelled head, and we wouldn't want that, now would we?"

It was actually quite startling to see Snape's face actually turn into a color other than white. "It seems your ego has already done a sufficient job of it, Potter. It must be swelled enough for you to forget common courtesy and come down flaunting your less than impressive physique."

Raising an eyebrow in annoyance, Harry retorted, "So you were checking out my physique, oh dear, I wasn't aware Hogwarts hired pedophiles for their staff. That would explain your less-than-comely demeanor in your class. All of that sexual tension from watching strapping young quidditch players leaning over their cauldrons as you order them around…"

Sirius roared in laughter, while Mrs. Weasley, and several others of the female species, attempted to hide their blushes at such thoughts -thoughts of the quidditch players, mind you. Any thoughts they had of Snape usually involved injuring or maiming him in some fascinating yet horrid manner- as Snape's face turned a rather unhealthy color of green. Harry noted with disgust that the front of Snape's robes bulged a fraction.

It took a full five minutes for Dumbledore to regain order.

When the chaos had died down, the headmaster turned to Harry and said, " Harry, my boy, I would appreciate it if, from now on, you avoided antagonizing Professor Snape. Despite the numerous…issues involved with him, he is still an incredibly valuable asset to this organization."

That piqued Harry's interest somewhat. "Organization?"

The aged man nodded briefly. "After you fell asleep in the arms of miss Tonks" Said auror flushed bright red, "we retrieved you and brought you here, to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, a committee designed to combat Tom's attempts to control the wizarding world."

Harry snorted, "That's a rather strange name for an organization dedicated to combat. After all, isn't a phoenix a creature that burns itself to ash? Granted, it might rise again from the ashes, but at that point, it's so weak that it could easily be killed."

Taking a seat in an empty chair at the table, he continued, "I remember hearing something of an 'Order of the Phoenix' in one of the books I was reading while preparing for the Third Task. It was disbanded after his defeat. That being the case, that would mean that this little club is a fledgling, still weak in its infancy, just waiting for something to come and kill it."

The strange sense of Harry was rather frightening, as the connection could be made. Everyone shifted a little, even Alastor moody looked vaguely uncomfortable, though it was far harder to tell with him.

Dumbledore let off a ghost of a smile, "While that may be true, we have time to reach maturity. Voldemort has not begun any of the activities his followers were known for yet. It is believed that he is currently recruiting in an attempt to bolster his ranks. During the last war, he had as few as 40 followers. It would seem that he has begun to try a different tactic, opting for mass instead of quality."

Harry furrowed his brows in concentration before speaking up again. "That attack yesterday, there was something wrong with it, it was almost…easy. Were the death eaters we fought there new recruits or something? And if they were, why send raw recruits after a place that would undoubtedly be protected, especially after what happened at the end of the Third Task?"

Moody grinned and nodded in approval. Dumbledore's 'ghost smile' became a smirk. "Yes, very observant, Harry. The Death eaters either killed or incapacitated yesterday were indeed new recruits, with a few veteran members acting as the lieutenants. We believe that the attack was simply a crucible, a means to purge their ranks of those unfit to be a death eater. Their plans however, obviously failed, as I do not believe they were prepared to deal with a teenager trained to defeat them."

Harry smirked, before remembering his training. He opened his mouth to ask about it, but Dumbledore was ahead of him. "Yes, Mr. Potter, your training will continue. However, you will now be conducting it with Alastor, as Nymphadora has informed me that your dueling skills are almost at par with hers, and that you regularly engage in mock fights lasting several minutes. She says your skills with a wand are most impressive."

Harry stared at the Headmaster, trying to discern if he had heard that last part right. The odd twinkle in the man's eyes told him everything. 'Perverted old goat'.

Groaning, he put his face in his hands and shook it, trying his hardest to remove the memory of his headmaster's insinuation from his mind. He looked back up when Mrs. Weasley asked, "Albus, why does poor Harry have to have this training? He's much too young to be participating in the Order!"

A tick appeared above Harry's eye. As much as he loved that woman, and viewed her as a surrogate mother, sometimes she was a little overbearing. Albus looked to Harry, who shrugged in response. They could learn about the prophecy, they knew how to keep a secret, besides, its contents were something that anyone with half a brain could figure out.

"Years back, a prophecy was made, one that involved either Harry, or his future classmate. It essentially stated that Voldemort would mark one of them as his equal, and that one of them would have to kill the other in order to live. As you an quite plainly see, Harry here was the one that was marked."

There was a semi-loud murmuring among the attendants of the meeting, but no large outcries. Dumbledore actually seemed quite surprised by that.

As he studied the people conversing amongst themselves over this revelation, a sudden thought popped into Harry's head. "Professor, how did Voldemort know to attack my house? Was he there when the prophecy was made?"

For the first time in the four years that Harry had known the man, Dumbledore actually looked uncomfortable. "I'm not sure you want me to answer that question, Harry." Dread began to fill Harry. "How did Voldemort know about the prophecy? Tell…me…now."

Dumbledore seemed to visibly age, as he sagged in his chair. "I believe it is time for the man to reap the fruits of his labours. Very well. The one who gave the prophecy was a friend of mine, and it was in a semi-private area. Despite this, one of Voldemort's death eaters was nearby, and heard a portion of the prophecy. He decided to act upon it, and told his master of it. That was how it was discovered."

Rage filled Harry. "Who was it?" Dumbledore was silent. Harry snarled and slammed a fist into he table, cracking the wood. His eyes seemed to glow as he growled at the old man, "Who was the bastard, Albus, tell me now, or so help me, I'll kill every one of them to find out." from the disappointed look on Moody's face, it seemed apparent that he thought killing all of them was to be the standard method of dealing with them.

Dumbledore sighed, and muttered, "Severus Snape." the room grew to a dead silence. Harry just stood there, immobile. Then his limbs began to quake. Drawing faster than anyone thought possible for the teenager, he trained his wand at the greasy-haired man, who seemed shocked that the anonymity afforded him by the headmaster was now gone, and uttered something in parseltongue. A deep violet spell came spiraling out of his wand, impacting the potions professor so hard that it threw him against the wall hard enough to shake dust off of it in an explosive cloud. A single syllable later, and the man's limbs snapped to his body. His veins and eyes began to bulge, as magical pressure was exerted on his body, leaving him in agony. He would have screamed, but he couldn't expand his chest to get oxygen. His vision began to darken…

Harry was startled from his spell when a pair of arms wrapped around him. "Harry, calm down." While Harry was angry enough to kill the man under his power, he was also a teenage boy, and having any woman, though especially Tonks, wrap her arms around you and whisper in your ear would cause _some_ distraction. Giving over to his hormones, he released the spell, letting the man drop to the floor, gasping and wheezing.

His attempts weren't helped when a snarling Sirius kicked him violently in the ribs, causing some very audible pop's. Snape just groaned. Sirius spat on the man's unmoving form, before yelling out, "Kreacher!"

In response to that call, a house elf appeared, easily the ugliest creature Harry had ever seen. It was small and apparently ancient, the few hairs on its head were wispy at best, and silver-grey. Its skin was a mottled brown, with spots of yellow and green. Its nose was at least 6 inches long, and the right nostril had a bogey coming out of it. Its slavering mouth was filled with misshapen and stained teeth, and its tongue was convulsing erratically, sending drops its spittle flying everywhere.

"The blood-traitor is calling Kreacher?" At Harry's questioning look, Sirius elaborated. "My relationship with my mother was strained at best. Finally, after my fifth year, I fled home and lived with your father. My mother, realizing what I had done, removed me from the family. She turned my inheritance over to my brother, Regulus, who had become a death eater. However, he managed to piss off the Dark Lord, and left his service. Voldemort sent assassins after him, and killed him, but not before he reinstated me to the family and left me everything. This thing…" he pointed to the elf, "is our family house-elf. The portrait of my mother has convinced the insane little bugger to call me a 'blood-traitor' whenever possible. I'd be tempted to kill it, but at this point, it's so damn pathetic that it couldn't even be called a mercy killing."

Turning his attention back to the elf, he said, "Kreacher, take this filth up to one of the spare rooms and lock the door. I forbid you from taking anything on the way there or on the way back. I won't have you stealing anything else."

The rest of the meeting was fairly tame, with the adults discussing the various happenings, and the tactics that might be used by the death eaters. The children spent the time catching up from the few weeks of summer vacation, and ogling Harry's ability to use magic. Finally, it was time for bed, and the teenagers headed up towards the rooms on the second and third floors of the manor. Stopping at a door with a piece of parchment that had his name written on it (along with various poorly drawn sketches of him flying on a broom, fighting an overgrown snake, and kicking a snake man between the legs) attached, he grabbed the doorknob and was about to enter when a hand grabbed his shoulder. Reacting purely on reflex, he grabbed the hand and twisted it, turning at the same time, forcing his attacker into a chicken wing, the arm just barely missing the breaking point.

"Harry…owowowow….Harry, it's me, Tonks! Let go!" realizing she really was who she said she was, Harry sheepishly let go and rubbed the back of his head, chuckling nervously. "Uh, sorry about that Tonks, but you of all people should know to be careful around me, considering you were the one teaching me."

Tonks winced as she rotated her arm, "Cor, Harry, that bloody hurt! You've gotten entirely too good at it."

For a minute or so, there was an awkward silence between them. Harry was quite fascinated by the wooden floor, whereas Tonks was seemingly interested in the mouldings of the ceiling. Finally, Harry decided to break the silence.

"So, uh, was there something you needed, Tonks?" His voice seemed to jerk Tonks out of her reverence of the mouldings, and she looked at him.

"Well, I was going to wish you good night, but you sort of ruined the mood." Harry was kind of confused when she said that. Why would you need a mood to say good night? When he voiced that thought, Tonks just rolled her eyes, before grabbing a fistful of his shirt front and pulling him into a searing kiss.

Harry wasn't quite sure how long the kiss lasted, but he did know that he wouldn't mind it going on forever. When Tonks finally broke it off, he tried to go in for another one, Tonks held him still. "Sorry, lover-boy, you only get one goodnight kiss for now. Maybe if you behave yourself, you can be upgraded to two, even three." Leaning in so that her mouth was right by his ear, filling his nose with the scent of her intoxicating perfume, she whispered huskily, "Good night Harry." Licking the shell of his ear and nibbling his earlobe, she chuckled and walked off, a noticeable sway to her hips.

Harry turned to go into his room, his mind a haze and the front of his trousers bulging noticeably. That night, his dreams consisted of himself and a certain pink-haired auror doing naughty things that shouldn't even be mentioned in a mature-rated story.

Harry woke the next morning by means of a bucket of ice water, courtesy of a madly grinning Moody. Shaking the sleep from his head, he threw a glare at the man, desperately trying to set the man on fire with it, especially when he realized it was 4:30 in the morning. The grizzled auror laughed at his efforts. "Laddy, it will take a lot more than that to scare me. Now, get dresses and meet me in the rec room downstairs. Today we're starting your training, and we will continue to do it everyday save for the weekends until the end of term, and even then, I will expect you to stay in shape. Now, hurry up."

Five minutes later, a barely awake Harry was standing in front of Moody, wand in hand. Moody snorted, "Give me your wand boy, you won't be needing it for days, at least. We'll be starting off with conditioning." Getting a really bad feeling about this already, Harry did as he was told and resumed his spot in front of Moody.

Pocketing the boy's wand, Moody began the instructions for the first exercise, "Alright lad, the exercise we are about to start is going to work on your strength, speed, and dexterity. What you are going to do is start doing push ups. When I say so, I want you to roll once, then get back up and start doing push ups immediately. To insure you roll quickly, I will be shooting spells at you, and if you're not fast enough, you'll be hit, understand?" Harry nodded, that bad feeling in his stomach escalating. "Alright get down and start."

Harry did as he was told, keeping his face up. He had done maybe six when Moody called out "roll!" not expecting it so soon, Harry was a little slow and was caught in the shoulder with a mild stinging hex. Cursing he fell to the floor and grabbed at the irritated area, only to be caught in a full body-bind. "You're dead!" Yelled Moody.

"What the hell were you thinking? What am I always saying? 'Constant Vigilance'! And what the hell was with you grabbing your wound? You don't have time for that shit! If you're in a firefight and get cut, if you grab it, you move your concentration from the fight, leaving you open. Do it again, and this time, remember, Constant Vigilance!"

This time, Harry managed to get three rolls in, and 20 pushups, before getting tagged. "Better Potter. But after your second roll, you started to get complacent, thinking you had found a pattern in my attacks and the number of push ups you were doing. Assuming not only makes you an ass, it will make you a very dead ass. Do you understand?" Harry nodded, panting. "Good, then do it again."

They did that exercise for another hour, and by the time Harry had managed to get ten rolls in a row without being hit, his arms were dead. Sweat covered his entire body, drenching his shirt. Moody growled approvingly at the boy's progress. "Not bad, but it could be better. Now, come with me out back."

Harry followed the man out past the kitchen and into the back part of the manor property. Outside, there was a small patio on which there were several pieces of French patio furniture. There was a large garden, filled with colorful flowers, with a fountain in the middle, a garden Gnome who was spitting water out of its mouth. Farther at the back, there was what appeared to be a stable house, and a small lake. The area was lit by several lamp posts which exuded a magical pulsing light all around the perimeter. To his left, Harry could see the sun just barely begin to peek above the horizon. He turned to Moody, who had conjured a newspaper and a cup of coffee.

"Alright, to give your arms a rest, I want you to give me 5 laps around that lake. Its about a kilometer in circumference, so, you'll be doing the equivalent of a 5k. Now, get moving!"

Harry stared venomously at the man, before sighing and beginning his run.

22 minutes later, Harry collapsed on the patio in front of Moody, who had finished his coffee and was in the process of buttering a croissant. "Good. I honestly didn't expect you to finish that fast. You have one more exercise to complete before you can go in and take a shower and get something to eat."

Waving his wand, he conjured a set of uneven bars, set about two feet apart and five feet off the ground.

"What you're going to be doing is vertical sit-ups. What you do is put your knees over the shorter bar, and your feet under the taller bar to support you. Then, you just begin doing sit-ups, making sure to get up all the way. In order to enforce this, I will be shooting spells at you. Be careful not to get hit. It's not a long drop, but the ground is awfully hard."

Harry was beginning to hate this man.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Half an hour later, Moody finally called the exercise quits. Harry untangled his legs from the bars and collapsed to the ground, wheezing for breath. His shirt was in tatters from being hit by numerous spells, and all of his clothes stank with sweat and dirt. Groaning, he tried to sit up, but his waist refused to respond. Cursing, he rolled over to his stomach and shakily stood.

"Alright Potter, we'll be doing this everyday until I'm satisfied with your physical condition. Only then will we actually get to dueling. Now go take a shower, you reek worse than the Weasley twins' socks."

Harry didn't have the energy to tell him that Ron's socks were worse.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

After along, hot shower that did wonders for his sore muscles, Harry made his way to the dining room, where he could smell the wonderful odors of Mrs. Weasley's cooking. Entering, he found that he was the last one to the table, but there was still plenty of food to go around, everything from danishes, muffins, and croissants, to steak and eggs, bacon, and ham.

Moving to the empty seat between Tonks and a pigging Ron, Harry practically fell into his seat, just sitting there for a moment, relishing the reprieve his leg muscles got. Tonks grinned at him from around a mouthful of English muffin. Swallowing, she asked cheekily, "So did you have a good time this morning?" Harry threw her a dirty look that made her chuckle before gathering vast amounts of food onto his plate. She chuckled at his reaction. "Well, you'll get used to it. Anyways, after breakfast, you study tactics with Sirius and Shacklebolt until lunch, and then after lunch, it's book studies for an hour or two, and then you're done. Believe me, your calisthenics this morning will be the hardest thing you do for quite a while. After all, there's only so much a body can take."

Harry was immensely relieved to hear that, and was looking forward to the rest of the day as he finished his breakfast. As Tonks had said, the moment Harry put the last bite of eggs in his mouth, Sirius and Kingsley motioned for him to follow them, and he did, to a massive, three level circular library, with walkways running behind the shelves, and a ladder on a track in front of them. In the middle of the room there was a massive table, with numerous games stacked on a corner of it. Raising an eyebrow, Harry turned to the two men.

Sirius grinned, "We knew that a topic as boring as tactics would bore the hell out of you if it was taught in a conventional manner, so we decided to do things a little differently. Tell me, oh dear godson of mine, have you ever played Risk?"

About halfway into the game, Harry decided that there was a reason why his talents lay in Quidditch, and not chess or any other board game. Within an hour, as apparently it was quite a long game, all of his territories had been taken, and he was reduced to three armies all on Eastern Europe, one of the most exposed territories on the entire board. It was also quite intimidating when he realized that every single territory surrounding his contained at least a single cannon and cavalry. He felt like crying as he watched Sirius gleefully wipe out his remaining forces in one fell swoop.

Seeing their students heart broken appearance, Sirius and Kingsley decided to halt the game.

"You did fairly well for someone who had never played that game before, and for never having been instructed in basic tactics. Anyways, this was simply a test to see where you stood, and what we need to work on with you. One of the problems you had in the game was the priority of targets. You had an extremely difficult time getting more forces because your focus was on gaining as many territories as possible, instead of trying to take as many continents as possible." Harry was confused. "Aren't those one and the same?"

Kingsley shook his head. "In a manner they are, but there are completely different thought processes behind them. In Risk, when have control of a continent, you get a certain number of extra armies for it. You, when you were playing, were simply trying to get as many territories as you could, not paying attention to the benefits of owning a continent. This method presents two problems; over extension and bad position."

Kingsley pointed to eastern Europe on the game board. "Most of the territories you had at the beginning were in the Americas. From a strategic point of view, you should have tried to conquer that area, as it would pose the fewest problems, and the fewest casualties. Instead, what you did was extend out into Europe and northern asia. This overextended your troops, so your lines were dangerously thin, making them very easy to break through. Also, you put yourself into a trap. By not conquering all of the territories behind Eastern Europe, you allowed your enemies to circle around your troops and cut them off from any reinforcements."

Harry gaped at the man. He had no idea that so much thought could be put behind the simple movement of pieces on a board.

Sirius, who had been browsing through the library as Kingsley had been explaining this to Harry, returned, dumping seven tomes onto the table. "All of these contain different strategies and tactics used for ground, naval, and aerial battles. Also in here is Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_, possibly the most famous book on military tactics to ever exist. We have four hours till lunch, might as well get started. The first one we're going to cover is the basic, but effective, pincer movement. Like it says, it is a two pronged attack that catches an enemy off guard….."

Harry was quite sure his brain might explode. For two hours, kingsley and Sirius had gone over the more simple tactics with him, and that had been all well and good, but then they started presenting him with hypothetical situations, asking him what he would do, and then, when he responded, they would introduce variables never mentioned before, all of which seemed devoted to keeping him from finding a proper way to win in the situation. It was utterly maddening, and when he stated as much to the two men, he was met with the response, "No plan will ever go exactly the way you want it to, you have to be aware of variables that could occur without a moment's notice. Say for instance, you're marching an army into the east. You've got the supply trains moving nice and smooth, your men's morale is high, everything is going fine. Then you get caught in a monsoon. The roads become muddy messes, and the supply trains slow to a crawl. When the rains stop, the water attracts mosquitos, which bring fever to the men, and thousands die. You, if you were a muggle commander, and unable to affect the weather like we can, have a choice; continue on, or hold off until your troops recover. Continuing on would mean slow progress, exhausting your men and making them even more susceptible to disease. In this case, it would be more sound to hold off, or even break off the attack all together. The costs of continuing would be too high to be worth the benefits of winning."

They worked a bit more until lunch was called, and again, Harry found himself between the human eating machine that was Ron, and the sexiest auror he knew, though Sirius would claim that he was, in fact, the sexiest auror around, before being reminded he was no longer one.

Lunch was an amiable affair, though Harry was somewhat startled when Tonks put her hand on his thigh underneath the table. It didn't help either when she began massaging it. It never strayed northward, however much Harry was both hoping/dreading for it. Turning to the older women, she only gave him a salacious wink, before resuming the consumption of her soup.

There were times that Harry hated being a teenager. Forcing his attention away from Tonks, he stared at the lone empty seat at the table, the spot normally occupied by Snape. Even thinking about the man set his blood to boiling, and he vowed to get revenge for what the man did to his family. Finishing lunch quickly, he put his dishes in the sink and made his way back to the library for his book studies. Oddly enough, the one coaching him for this was Flitwick. The dwarf-like man could barely contain his excitement at being able to teach Harry something outside of the normal curriculum. Their first day was spent reviewing the theoretical applications of all of the spells he knew, and even the more unorthodox methods of using them, like, for instance, using the summoning charm to trip your opponent when you were dueling. When Harry had been browsing through the books, he had even found an oddly fascinating use of the body-bind hex, but was applied to a more specific area, and for husbands who had problems 'standing at attention'. It was extremely unfortunate for Flitwick that he was floating behind Harry, reading over his shoulder, and when he came to the particular passage in the book, he let out a squeak and fell to the floor in a heap. It was then that the dimunitive man suggested they finish for the day.

Both body and mind sore, Harry made his way to the living room, where Ron was once again involved in a might duel with one of his chess pieces, this time the white king. Unfortunately, it looked as if Ron was going to lose the duel. The sight was rather strange, as all of the white pieces were lined up on the board, cheering their king on, while all of the black pieces were cheering Ron on, and the Black King was making faces at the White King. Abruptly, the White king threw Ron's pencil-sized sword aside and lunged, pricking the boy on his thumb. Ron roared in pain and anger, and raised his fist to smash the piece, but Harry interrupted.

"Ron, who's the wizard here?" Ron growled, sucking his wounded thumb. "Now Ron, who is smarter, the chess piece or the wizard? Are you going to let a simple chess piece goad you into attacking?"

Ron appeared to think for a second, before nodding and pulling a small object from his pocket. "my apologies." He said to the White King. The King nodded, and hefted the object, a cylindrical shape about an inch long, with a string coming from the top. Ron snapped his fingers once, and the device exploded with a loud crack. When the dust cleared, all that remained was a pile of white dust where the King once stood. All of the white pieces stood there silently, where as the Black pieces were doing happy dances. In fact, the Black King and Queen were doing a perfect waltz to music only they could hear.

Shaking his head at yet another example of the oddities of the wizarding world, and wizards in general, Harry slowly backed out of the room, now containing a madly cackling Ron, and tried to find someplace with some peace and quiet.


	6. Chapter 6

Harry Potter and the Tides of War

Chapter ??

I'm back again with another update, as well as a strange idea for an omake. You see, I watched the movie, Dirty Harry, with that ever so memorable scene, and it got me thinking, what would it be like if Harry did something like that? The following is the culmination of that plot bunny, 20 ounces of Amp energy drink, pop tarts, and severe boredom due to watching over little kids at a pool all day.

**Harry stared at the cowering death eater, squinting his eyes as the rising sun shone in them. The death eater said nothing. It was Harry who broke the silence. "I know what you're thinking." He spit out the wad of chewing gum in his mouth. "You're thinking, did he cast 6 spells, or five?" Harry trained his wand onto the death eater. "The question now is, do you feel lucky, punk? Huh, do ya?" **

**The death eater had a strange sense of deja vu regarding young Harry's actions, but stayed silent. Harry grinned, and cast the spell.**

**... or at least attempted to. As he finished the wand movement, a clear clicking sound could be heard. "What the bloody frigging hell?" As Harry stared at his malfunctioning wand, the death eater quietly snuck away.**

Now that I have that out of my system, it's time to move on to this session's edition of Top Ten Things!

**Top Ten Things The Ministry Doesn't Want You To Know...**

**Yes, you wizards do have a brain, and do not have to listen to us all the time.**

**What is known as the Veil of Death is actually a storage closet**

**Yes, we do indeed have better things to do than make Harry Potter's life more difficult than it already is, the problem is, we have no idea what those things are.**

**Fudge is married to the owner of the Daily Prophet, so yes, the Ministry of Magic is in fact, in bed with the newspaper.**

**The Dementors are not actual magical creatures, they are, in fact, a society of evil step-mothers.**

**the reason why goblins love gold is because they have ADHD, and are easily distracted by shiny objects. The more shiny objects they have, the happier they are. That's why the clerks are so cranky, they have no shiny objects of their own, which is how the goblin rebellions started.**

**We actually did curse the position of Defense against the Dark Arts, in an attempt to subvert the normal teaching methods there and topple Dumbledore's pillar of strength.**

**Monetary bribes are not the only 'service' Lucius Malfoy has offered to achieve an agenda.**

**Birth Records indicate that while Umbridge's mother was human, she apparently had a love tryst with a toad that, in a madness developed from snorting inkwells, conceived the foul woman herself.**

**And the number one thing the ministry really doesn't want you to know...**

**we actually have no idea how wizarding Britain is supposed to be run. We simply follow the directions of Sheba, the spider-queen, who rules with infinite knowledge. All Hail Sheba! Sheba, queen of knowledge and low-fat margarine! Sheba, destroyer of the horrible show _Friends!_**

**If you were wondering, the idea for that last one came from an episode of South Park, a show I don't normally watch, though it takes place in the very state I live in. Sometimes the content is ridiculously stupid, and yet, at the same time, strangely prophetic. Anyways, onto the main course...**

Harry swerved to the side, dodging the fist that was coming towards him, and lashed out with a brutal sidekick. His opponent grunted, catching the offending limb and holding it tightly against their body. Harry grimaced and spun sideways, dislodging his leg and sending a punishing blow to the side of their head. The opponent collapsed, completely unconscious.

It had been a few weeks since Harry's arrival at Grimmauld place, and the subsequent start of his even more brutal training regime. In fact, September 1st was in two days.

When he had questioned Moody about his training, the grizzled auror had replied that he had taken Harry through the entire auror training camp, which normally lasted up to four months, in two months, mainly because there were things taught to aurors that were practically useless. The man assured Harry that he was as prepared as he could be, at least for fighting against death Eaters.

The months of hard training and eating right had done wonders for they boy. Gone was the skinny, wasted form of a malnourished youth. It was replaced by the toned and athletic body of a fighter. He had also gotten taller, by almost three inches, now making him taller than Ron, a fact that he loved to rub in the face of the youngest Weasley boy.

Speaking of Weasleys, Harry had also decided to follow in the footsteps of his father and his friends with their pranks. Aiding him was the combined mischievous genius of both Remus and Sirius. With their help, he had devised a truly awesome opening feats prank.

Shaking his head free of the errant thoughts, Harry revived his opponent, one Hestia Jones, before making his way over to where his shirt and sword were laying. The reason for the shirt being there was quite simple. Moody insisted that every aspect of Harry's training should be as realistic as possible. This meant full body contact in spars with no pads. Needless to say, Harry quickly became adept at healing spells and potions.

Strapping the low-slung sword harness around his waist, Harry grinned as he remembered how he had gotten it...

_Harry walked down the stairs on the 31__st__ to a huge crowd of people, most of them from the __Order, standing around a huge pile of wrapped gifts. He was too stunned to say anything as he was herded to the fun and games that awaited everyone in the next room._

_After a few hours, the time had finally come to open presents. Grabbing a large and slightly heavy box first, he ripped off the paper to reveal the kind of box large coats are usually kept in. Raising an eyebrow at Hermione, who had given him the gift, he opened it, revealing a long black duster. Smiling widely, he stood and put it on. The hem of the coat reached just above his ankles, and the cuffs were the perfect length. (Think Neo's coat from the second Matrix movie). There seemed to be some changes though. The cuffs of the coat had buttons, allowing the sleeves to be rolled up. There was some basic embroidery along the collar of the coat, with twin lightning bolts on either collar at the front. The upper chest portion of the coat was stockier, but no less difficult to maneuver in. when he questioned his friend about it, she replied that the normal cloth had been layered with small sheets of dragonscale for added protection. It was then that she pointed out the back to him. Taking it off, he held it so he could view the back. On it was a giant phoenix, clutching a lightning bolt in one claw and a shield in the other. Below the phoenix written on embroidered parchment was the saying 'Stark und Ehre fur das Licht'_ . _Again he turned to his brainiac friend. She smiled, "Well, I did some research, and apparently the potters are germanic in origin, so I figured german would be a bit more appropriate than Latin. The phrase means 'Strength and Honor for the Light'. Harry hugger her tightly, uttering a thanks._

_The next gist he uncovered was from Moody, a wand holster that would strap to his arm or thigh, with a quick-release trigger. _

_From Sirius and Moony he got a book containing the plans for all of the pranks the Marauders pulled while they were in school. Dumbledore visibly flinched when he heard that._

_From the twins he got a pair of leather gloves fitted nicely, charmed so that the grip would never slip._

_From Tonks, he got a folded coupon, with a wink, the same with Hestia. _

_From Charlie, he got a necklace formed from the teeth of a dragon, a hungarian horntail, to be exact. He was assured that the dragon was dead before the teeth were extracted. _

_The rest of his presents were pretty much standard, cards and sweets, with books and additional clothes (Tonks had made public what Harry's sizes were, particularly the inseam). The real shocker came when Dumbledore presented his gift. It was a sword, approximately a meter in length, slightly curved. The guard was shaped in the form of a stag's head, and the pommel was a simple reverse tear drop colored gold. _

_"I discovered this during my travels before I became headmaster. I believe it to be perfect for you, and I feel that you will use it well." Harry put the sword on. It hung on a low-slung harness that reminded him of those old West gunslingers, but it wasn't uncomfortable at all. Putting on his coat and gloves, he found that he looked rather intimidating. _

_After that, he began his lessons in swordsmanship._

Harry finished strapping on the sword and exited the room, headed towards his own chambers to pack for school. When he arrived there, he was shocked to see Tonks. Frankly, to tell the truth, the auror sort of scared Harry. Oh, he wasn't frightened of what physical harm she might do to him, but rather the hormonal harm she seemed to incur without trying. Indeed, her good-nights upgraded to three kisses, and her daytime playfulness had increased. Harry had no idea how much more he could take. He knew she was simply teasing him, and that she wasn't really interested in him. But he knew that like any other red-blooded male, he was appreciative of the attentions of attractive women, it was just that he alternately hated and loved what she was doing. He loved it because he enjoyed the attention, but he hated it because he had gotten used to it, and he knew she was going to get tired of her little games. In fact, he might as well start that now. Sometimes he hated being the nice guy.

He made no moves as she unwound herself from the chair she had tucked herself into and advanced towards him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she giggled throatily at the serious look on his face. She pressed herself up against him. "You look funny when you're serious, you know."

Harry gritted his teeth. She continued to play this farcical game with him. "Tonks, stop." She didn't seem to hear him, as she pressed herself tightly against him. Harry forced himself to ignore the warm softness against his body. Grabbing her arms, he gently but firmly removed her arms from him and pushed her away. That got her attention. "What are you...?"

"I'm tired of your games Tonks. I know you're not really interested in me, but for some reason you enjoy playing with my emotions. It started on Privet Drive, and I let it go on, until I figured out what you were doing." Her face put on a shocked look. He ignored it. "I'm going back to school in a few days. I decided to let you play your games until I had to leave. That way, I was able to end this on my terms, and not yours. Now, please leave my room."

She didn't say anything. Her mouth was moving, but there was nothing. As if in a daze, she left his room, closing the door quietly behind her. Harry finished packing making sure to leave enough room for the school supplies they were going to pick up tomorrow.

She wasn't at dinner that night, but no one seemed to notice. As Harry opened the door to his room to go to bed, he wondered why it felt so odd. It was with a strange sense of loss that he realized Tonks had not been there for the customary good night kiss. He shrugged it off. He had done the right thing, he was sure of it.

The next day, they were all lined up ready to go to Diagon Alley, including Tonks. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as she were crying over something. Harry viewed it with only a mild shock. Had she been crying because he...no. She didn't care for him. She couldn't. Could she?

Tonks stared at the back of Harry's jacket as the group walked as one through the alley. Just looking at him made her want to break out in tears again. She had spent nearly all of last night crying to herself in her bed, wondering what she had done to make Harry think that she was playing with him. Contrary to what he accused her of, she did genuinely care for him, as more than a friend, too.

Hestia noticed Tonks look and held back until the two of them were safely out of earshot. "Hey Tonks, what's wrong?" The auror shook her head. Hestia pursed her lips. "Nymphadora..." "Don't call me that!"

finally seeing some spirit in her friend, hestia continued. "What happened Tonks? You almost never cry. And don't try and say that it's allergies, you don't have any."

tonks hesitated for a bit before whispering, "it's Harry."

Raising an eyebrow, Hestia prompted for clarification. Tonks sighed. "For the past few weeks, I've been teasing Harry and giving him good night kisses. I thought he seemed to enjoy it, but he told me yesterday that he wanted no more of it, that he was tired of games." She took a shuddering breath. "I wasn't playing games, Hest. I really do like him, and I don't know why he would want to end what I was doing so abruptly."

Hestia put on a thoughtful pose before nodding to herself. "Right then, the only solution is to ask him myself." Before Tonks could protest, Hestia made her way up the throng of people to where Harry was by himself examining a rather intriguing multi-tailed cat in the magical pet shop display window. Thankfully, he was by himself; the others had gone inside so Ron could get the magical equivalent of Rittelin for Pig.

"Harry, can I have a quick word with you?" The boy eyed her suspiciously. He knew she was friends with Tonks, and she might be feeling a little...twitchy. Cautiously, he nodded. "Harry, why did you do what you did with Tonks? The poor girl has been crying her eyes out."

Harry turned back to examine the cat. "All I did was end her games before she did, and I got hurt. I know she was playing with me. There's no way a woman like her could be attracted to me like that. I'll admit, it was rather nice to be kissed goodnight by a rather attractive witch, but I don't deserve her." he held up a finger and the cat attempted to nuzzle it through the glass.

"So, basically, you think you're not good enough for her, and because of that, you assumed that she was simply fooling around. You then broke it off without confirming any of this with her and that's why she cried herself to sleep last night."

He froze. Hestia was not the one who had answered him that time. Standing slowly, he turned, to see a rather cross Tonks. Fists on hips, she stalked towards him. "Now you listen to me Harry James Potter! I don't know who put those ridiculous thoughts in your head, but i'll have you know I never play games with people I care about. I don't flirt with random people especially with what I was doing."

By now, Harry had backed up until his back was against the display, and Tonks was only a few inches away. "as for your self-deprecating comments, I will fall in love with anyone I damn well please, understand?! If that means I fall in love with a nice, incredibly handsome boy who has a Dark Lord after him, then so be it. Who are you to say whether or not you're good enough? You are if I say you are!" She grabbed a fistful of his shirt and raised her hand. Harry flinched, and closed his eyes, waiting for the slap that was sure to come.

Instead, he had a sudden difficulty breathing. Opening his eyes, he saw that Tonks had pulled him towards her and was kissing him rather fiercely. He tried to back away, but the hand she had lifted up previously came back up and held him there. Eventually, he simply resigned himself to the kiss, leaning against the glass. The cat pawed, trying to play with the wand sticking out of Harry's back pocket.

Tonks chuckled against harry's lips. Offended, he tried to break it off, but she held him there a little longer. When they finally came apart, she stated what the subject of her amusement was. Ten minutes later, they were walking out of the shop, Harry carrying the cat in his arms.

"He's a cute little thing." said Tonks, as she scratched him on the head. The cat purred loudly, tails flailing about. Abruptly, the cat pulled himself out from under Tonks' finger and crawled up Harry's arm before leaping onto the boy's head. "Hey!" Harry's cries of protest were stifled when a paw came flying down and smacked him on his face. Tonks erupted into laughter, "Well, let it be known that Harry Potter has been bested by a cat."

A while later, the trio were sitting at Fortescue's eating ice cream (Well, two of them were eating ice cream, the third was drinking cream from a saucer) waiting for the others. Licking the remainder of her chocolate ice cream from her spoon, an action that Harry found to be unfairly erotic, Tonks stared at the cat, who was now cleaning his paws very primly. "What are you going to name him?" Harry frowned. "I have no idea." He examined the creature. When he had bought the cat, the store owner had told him that it was the result of illegal breeding, and whatever qualities it had were so far unknown. About a foot long, its fur was a strange shade that seemed to alternate between gold and brown. Its ears were fairly large, about two inches high, with tufts of fur at the top. The most unique feature, was, of course the tails. 6 long tails waved back and forth, seeming indiscriminately.

"I have no idea. He seems to think that he rules over everything. Maybe Alexander, after Alexander the Great?" The cat looked at him for a second before sniffing. It seemed to accept the name, and Alexander resumed his standard 'throne'. Another quick paw to the face silenced Harry before he even started.

Eventually, the others did meet up with them, and after much cooing over Alexander by the females, it was time to head back to Grimmauld Place.

When they entered the house, Alexander immediately jumped off of Harry's head and landed on a house-elf's severed head, hanging by his front claws. He just hung there for a few seconds, before a soft meow brought Harry to the rescue. The moment Harry put him down, though, Kreacher came in, and Alexander took off like a rocket, and attached himself claws first to the elf. Kreacher shrieked in fear and pain, and took off running. Unfortunately, Alexander was blocking his vision, so he hit a few walls as he was trying to escape.

Sirius blinked, "Cor, Harry. I know that animals are supposed to be able to sense evil, but your cat is something else." Harry put his chin in his hand, "Really, I though it was just insane." A wail of inhuman agony filled the house, and Alexander reappeared, sitting down and licking what appeared to be blood from his claws. When he was done, he simply looked at all of the humans-and one werewolf- and meowed. That simple act made them all scramble for the kitchen to get away from Harry's devil-cat.

The next morning, Harry woke feeling unusually warm. Yawning, he stretched his arm out to grab his glasses, but instead of the metal and glass contraption he had been seeking, his hand instead found something fleshy and soft. Still in that strange half-awake and half-asleep stage, he gave the object he was clutching an experimental squeeze. A low moan answered him. So he tried it again. Same reaction.

Harry managed to deduce that that side of the bed was currently unavailable as a means of exit, so, logically, he turned to the other side. As he did so, he found that it too, was blocked by something. Scowling, he sat straight up, intending to tell off whoever was in his bed with him.

Then it occurred to him. There were _people_ in his bed. He was starting to get a really bad feeling about this. Silently pleading to God that it not be true, he looked to his right. Yep sure enough, there was a woman there, with bright pink hair cut short, wearing a grey tank top. Almost crying, he looked to his left. There was Hestia, in an overlong nightshirt, and a small smile on her face. Harry faced straight forward. Straight into the golden eyes of Alexander.

He Freaked.

In less than a second, he was out of the bed and up against the wall, panting. Unfortunately, his actions woke both of the women, who stared at him sleepily. It was also unfortunate for Harry that he was suffering from a condition that it quite common for teenaged males. Or that his current boxers were a little small.

Hestia blinked, then grinned.

Tonks licked her lips.

Alexander, continued to freak people out.

It was a very relieved Harry that sat down on the train. Between his freakily scary cat and the ravenous attention of Tonks, and even Hestia sometimes, he had barely managed to get his things together before they had to leave for the station.

He lay back in his seat, relishing the peace and quiet. Hermione was reading a book, and Ron was off trying to bully some first years into giving him their sweets. Abruptly, his peace was shattered when the compartment door was opened and malfoy junior walked in, followed by his two thugs.

Harry groaned, "Just leave Malfoy. I really don't want to deal with you right now. Turn around and leave, and take tweedle-dee and tweedle-dum with you."

The pale aristocrat's face flushed and he opened his mouth to deliver a scathing reply when Alexander, who had been previously sleeping on Harry's head, leaped off onto the floor of the corridor.

However, he was the size of a rather large jungle cat when he landed. He let off a roar that shook the glass in the doors and windows, and malfoy crawled over his thugs to get away. When they left, Alexander was once again the size of a house cat, and innocently sniffing Harry's shoes.

Harry, on the other hand, was in tears. "I inherited Satan's cat!" He bemoaned.


End file.
